The Straight Road
by inrepair
Summary: She never thought her marriage would come to this. She never thought she'd leave home with an ache in her heart and a throb in her groin. She never thought she'd find release in the woman she's seen everyday waiting for anyone to pick her up. WARNING: G!P
1. After Hours

_**Hi! I've had this idea bugging me for these last few days, so I decided to give it a try. If the feedback is sufficiently positive, I'll go on with it. I have part of chapter two written already so...let me know :)**_

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Santana Lopez was coming home from work when she first saw her. She wasn't supposed to but the road she'd take from Boise to Middleton was cut by some freaky accident between a snowplow and a few cars. So, in order to get home on time for her four-year wedding anniversary dinner, she'd have to make a U-turn, get in the last exit and take the fifty-minute ride to Middleton.

She remembers watching the sun set over the mountains. She remembers sending Olivia a text saying she'd be late and that she loved her very much. She remembers thinking the road reminded her of some sort of horror movie because it was completely straight and it didn't seem to end. But most of all, she remembers seeing a woman on the side of the road.

It only lasted for a few seconds but it still haunts her to this day.

The road was icy so Santana had to drive very slowly. She had time to take a good look at her. It was getting darker outside but the last rays of sunshine were enough to reflect on the woman's golden locks. Her hands were in her white snow jacket pockets. She was wearing black pants and some Uggs on her feet. She looked casual.

At first, Santana thought that maybe she was just waiting for a ride to work or for a ride home. She looked so young. Maybe she was just waiting for a ride to college. She passed by her and saw her looking up to see if this was _the_ car.

Weeks later she had to take the same route. Just like the first time, the blonde was pacing back and forth, wearing the same white jacket and the same boots. Santana looked at the time on the clock. It read 6.43PM. That was about the same time that the girl had been there weeks before.

The third time she saw her, she was stepping out of a black car that had stopped the other side of the lane. There were a few houses a couple of miles ahead, so maybe this was someone she knew dropping her off so she could go to work or wherever.

One day, Santana found out the road that led her home had been closed. She didn't understand why. But she also didn't much of it both because she'd get to drive through that straight road and, even though she'd never admit it, she really enjoyed the scenery. The rain fell heavily. It didn't stop the blonde from being at her usual place.

It was a Saturday when her daughter turned three. Santana had promised little Diana the whole family would spend the weekend in the state's capital doing whatever the girl wanted to do. Sunday night they returned to Middleton. It must've been close to nine when her car made a turn to the never-ending straight road. And there she was. Her jacket was yellow that night, but other than that, she looked the same. Weird, Santana thought. What was she doing there on a Sunday night?

"Poor girl." Olivia pitied as they passed the blonde.

"What?" Santana threw her a quizzical look.

"This economic crisis really did affect some people."

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you not see the girl that we just passed by?"

Santana hummed in response. "She's here everyday." She kept talking as she looked at the blonde through the rearview mirror. "I figured she must be waiting for a ride to work or something."

Olivia let out a chuckle. Then she shook her head. "I don't think so."

"What? Do you know her?"

"No." She shook her head. Santana glanced at her with furrowed eyebrows. "She's a hooker." Olivia hissed, looking worriedly to the backseat to see if their daughter had heard her. She was fast asleep.

Santana's eyes widened. "What?"

"A hooker, Santana. A prostitute."

"I know what a hooker is, Liv." Santana snapped at her. Then she shook her head in disbelief. "Are you sure, though? She doesn't look like one. Hookers are supposed to…" She paused searching for the right word, "Wear hooker clothes. You know, impossibly short skirts and stripper heels."

"I thought so too. But I ran into Molly Davidson a few days ago at the supermarket, and you know how she owns the celery a mile away from here?" Olivia asked. Santana nodded. "Well, her husband was in the barn when he heard some weird noises. Apparently, Rick Collins parked his car behind the barn, thinking it was abandoned and he was going at it with this girl!"

"Are you serious?" Santana shook her head in disapproval.

Olivia was looking amused. "Very!"

She kept talking but Santana zoned out. Could this woman really be a prostitute? It did seem to explain why she was always there and why she once saw her getting out of a car. And it certainly did explain why she was pacing back and forth on the lane of a deserted road on a Sunday night. Poor girl indeed, she repeated Olivia's words on her mind.

A few days later, when Santana saw her again, she was getting out of another car, different from the one she'd seen her getting out of weeks earlier. This time, Santana's stomach churned and she swore to herself if she ever had the opportunity to help this girl, she wouldn't think twice. If she ever became a millionaire, she wouldn't mind sharing a quarter of her fortune with her. It was just sad to see someone so young give up her body, sacrifice it, to earn a couple of bucks.

There was a time she was coming from Boise with Olivia. When they passed the blonde, her wife, once again, showed pity. And then she told Santana she had gone to a bar a couple of days before. Apparently, the guys there were dissing the blonde, including one Rick Collins.

Santana scoffed angrily. "I hate Rick. He just thinks he's so much better than everyone else." She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

"True."

They didn't say another word for a few moments. Santana broke the silence with a mutter.

"I wish I could help her." She sighed in defeat.

Santana stopped seeing her once the road she used to take reopened. Once in awhile, she'd have to take the alternative route home, but even then, the blonde had seemed to vanish. She didn't think of her again.

That was last year.

A lot had changed ever since. Things at home weren't running as smoothly as she wished. Santana knew something was up with Olivia. Her wife seemed distant. These last couple of months were hell in the Hurley-Lopez household. Santana would come home from work, greet her wife with a kiss on the cheek, play with little Diane, eat dinner and then, after tucking in their daughter, Santana would try to persuade Olivia into sexy times. All of her attempts failed miserably. Everyday for a whole week, Olivia came up with the weirdest excuses. The other seven weeks were a repeat of the week before.

Santana eventually gave up on trying.

On the Monday after Mother's day, she decided she'd surprise Olivia with a romantic getaway. She left work earlier and picked up Diane from preschool. She had asked her best friend and Diane's godmother, if she could keep the little girl for the night. Being the angel Quinn is, she agreed with a smirk.

On the way home, Santana was feeling a little nervous. She took the wrong turn and ended up driving through the straight road. She bit her tongue when she almost cursed out loud.

Halfway through Diane asked, "Momma?"

Santana took her eyes off of the road to look at her daughter from the rearview mirror. "Yes, honey?"

"Where's that pretty lady that was always here?" Diane looked up at her mother with big brown eyes.

The question took Santana by surprise. How would a three-year old toddler remember a woman she couldn't have seen for more than five times? "I don't know, baby."

Diane looked out the window and watched the lane where the blonde would always be pacing back and forth go by.

"What if I told you that tonight you're sleeping at Aunt Quinn's?" Santana asked with a smile. She smiled even bigger when she saw Diane's eyes lit up.

"Really?" She squealed.

"Really."

Diane beamed at her mother. She fell silent for a few seconds. "Is Ivy going to be there?"

"I think so." Of course she'd be there, unless Quinn had sent her own daughter to a boarding school or somewhere else. But that was highly unlikely.

Santana managed to drop Diane at Quinn's after a lot of resistance from the little girl. It seemed that the idea of sleeping over at somebody else's house was very appealing to Diane, but it actually happening was terribly terrifying. Santana might have bribed her with a visit to the all season corn maze near Boise if she ceased the crying fit. That seemed to do it.

She got home and made her best to prepare a romantic evening for her wife. She really loved Olivia and she wanted to make right whatever was wrong between them. But she would be lying if part of this weren't for her to finally have the release she's been craving for two months.

Sure enough, she had sex that night. She actually thought it was a bit forced from Olivia's part, but at least she fulfilled her own desires.

That was the last she got for weeks.

The next time was in August. Olivia was a counselor down at the summer camp in Lake Lowell. The day before her departure for summer camp Santana made sure to prepare a nice go away dinner, accompanied by a full body massage, which obviously ended with a happy ending.

And on the first day of September, Santana got a promotion. When she went home that day, Olivia, as always, gave her that tight lip smile and forcedly asked her how her day went. But not even Olivia's foul mood shook the feeling of pride Santana carried on her shoulders that afternoon.

In the evening, though, Santana tried her luck one last time.

"I'm on my period, Santana." Olivia said as she pushed Santana away.

Santana kept trying to kiss her neck. "It's okay. We can do it in the shower." Her kisses trailed from the woman's jawline to her neck. When they reached her cleavage, Olivia pushed her away completely. Santana tilted her head and looked at her wife through furrowed eyebrows.

"I…" Olivia looked down. "I have stomach cramps."

Santana got up abruptly. She opened the closet and took the small suitcase she'd always use for business trips. She threw it on the bed, almost hitting a stunned Olivia in the process. She took some of her own clothes and threw them in it.

"What are you doing, Santana?" Olivia managed to ask.

"What does it look like I'm doing, _Olivia?_" Santana snapped at the woman.

Olivia flinched. Santana never used her full name. She'd always address her by Liv. "Don't go…" She whispered.

Santana entered their ensuite bathroom and searched for whatever she thought might be needed for a night out..

"Please, San." Olivia pleaded with tears running down her cheeks.

Santana's heart broke at the state of the woman in front of her. Her own self was on the verge of tears. She opened the bedroom door. Then she sighed and turned around. "Give me one good reason."

Olivia looked down, unable to think of anything but "I love you."

"No, you don't, because if you did, you would never hurt me as much as you've been hurting me lately." She inhaled slowly and when she exhaled, the breath came out shaky. "I'll be back."

Santana closed the door and made her way down the corridor. She gently opened Diane's bedroom door. The light being emitted by the duck shaped night-light illuminated her room. She sat down on the little bed and tucked in a stray of black hair that was hanging loose on the girl's face.

Diane stirred and slowly opened her eyes. "Momma?" Her voice was husky.

"Shhh." Santana hushed. "Sleep, baby." She kept stroking her daughter's hair.

The little girl faintly nodded. Then she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep, "I love you, momma."

Santana let a tear drop. "I love you too, baby girl." She kissed her rosy cheek. "So much."

As she got up, she cleaned the tears and sniffled. She noticed Olivia's figure by the door. She too, was crying. Santana walked by her without sharing a single look. Downstairs, she searched for her car keys. When she found them she opened the garage. As she opened her car's door, a hand caught her wrist.

"Please stay, San." Olivia begged. Santana tried getting free, but Olivia's grip got stronger. "Please."

They looked in each other's eyes and in the next second, Olivia slammed her body into Santana's, pinning her against the car. Then she kissed her like they'd been apart for millenniums, which was partly true.

Santana's eyes were still open and very wide when she reacted to the kiss. She then felt her left arm being released. Olivia's hand left a burning trail from Santana's neck to her breasts. She groped them for a couple of seconds as they kept kissing. Santana whined unconsciously when Olivia's lips detached of hers. She moaned when Olivia left kisses on her neck. The wandering hand got lower and lower, until it reached Santana's prized possession.

The bulge on Santana's pants was very noticeable by now, so it wasn't hard for Olivia to define it. She pressed against it firmly, moving her hand repeatedly in long strokes. Olivia tried to unbutton Santana's jeans while nipping at her ear, but she was unsuccessful. She parted from Santana to see what she was actually doing.

And it was in those three long seconds that Santana realized was bound to happen if she didn't stop. In the first second she realized she was supposed to be mad at Olivia, and she was indeed furious. In second number two she realized Olivia had been putting off sex for months now, but now that she felt Santana slipping through her fingers, she tried to seduce her. In the third second, Santana pushed her away.

"No." She spoke through a hoarse whisper. She pushed a stunned Olivia off of her with her free hand and wiped her swollen lips with the back of the other.

Olivia was confused. "Wh-"

Santana got in her car, started it and rolled down her window. "I'll be back."

She sped off without looking back. She drove through Middleton, thinking these past months were made up from her imaginary and that tonight was just a horrible nightmare. But when she felt her member throbbing for release, she realized this whole scene had just been very real.

Before she realized what she had done, she had already turned into the straight road she had discovered a year ago. It was like something was pulling her there, but she shrugged it off, concluding it was just the habit. She had to look for a place to sleep for the night. If she didn't, she'd have to park somewhere and sleep in her SUV. She could always give Quinn a call, but she didn't really feel like explaining this whole situation to her. She remembered passing by a motel near the end of the road. That was now her destination.

She pressed the gas pedal, seen as the road was literally deserted. After fifty meters away from the Davidson's celery, she made out a figure in the dark.

There she was: white jacket, black jeans, Ugg boots. After months of not seeing her, Santana felt a warm feeling, just like she had missed her presence. She wasn't sure what caused the feeling, but maybe, _just maybe_, the pulsating appendage beneath her pants had nothing to do it.

She wasn't standing that evening. She was sat down on what seemed to be a plastic chair, looking down with her hands in her pockets.

Santana slowed her speed as she neared her, causing the blonde to look up at the approaching car. And even though the car windows were tinted, she still felt like they had just locked eyes.

Santana's member kept on throbbing and as she neared the blonde, it seemed to pulsate even more. A few meters away from the woman, it started hurting. And it hurt so bad she felt forced to put a hand on it, trying to calm it. It seemed to be useless though, because the pain only increased. Her breathing was uneven now and she wanted more than nothing to just take it out and wank off, but she knew she'd probably end up crashing against something. Actually, she knew if she didn't stop in that moment, she'd end up crashing anyway.

So, she killed the engine, not even noticing she was stopping the car by the woman. She only did realize what she had done when she saw a blonde raising her head. Her own heart beat rapidly and she was unsure of what to do next. She couldn't just speed off.

Well, actually, she could. But maybe she just didn't want to.

The discomfort on her lower parts woke her off from her internal debate. She looked at the woman, who seemed hesitant on whether to get up or to wait for a call, and then she looked at her lap, noticing the big bulge that was aching for release.

Rolling down the window, she sternly said, "Get in."


	2. Don't Panic

**Thanks for all the support, guys! Hope you enjoy this one. :D**

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The woman didn't need to be told twice.

As she opened the door to Santana's car she hesitated. She looked at her with wide eyes but proceeded to sit nonetheless.

Santana, sensing the girl's shock when she realized she was about to service a woman and not a filthy old man, chuckled bitterly. "Surprised?" She stepped on the gas pedal before the other had a chance to reply.

A few seconds had passed on their drive when the blonde finally spoke up. "I've never—I've never done anything with a girl."

Santana took her eyes off the road for a second to watch her nervously playing with her thumbs. She wanted to tell the woman she didn't have to worry about _that_ part, but instead, she found herself asking, "What's your name?"

"Brittany." She told her very lowly.

"I'm…Lane." She realized telling Brittany her name was not the best idea, given that what was bound to happen in a few minutes was a one time thing. She didn't want anything to do with her.

Santana drove the car through a rough, dusty path until it came to a full stop in the middle of nowhere. Glancing around she figured the place she'd just parked was secluded enough from the rest of the world, not that there would be a lot of people woken up at this hour of the night.

She turned off the ignition. "Okay, Brittany." She took a deep breath. "Here's what's going to happen. I don't know how you work or whatever but I don't want the whole…" She paused trying to find the right word. "—treatment". She looked at the girl carefully to see if she was following. "I just need a blowjob."

Brittany blushed at the bluntness. But then she furrowed her eyebrows. "But how—"

"I'll pay you double if that's what you want." Santana looked at the blonde with pleading eyes.

Four seconds passed.

Santana sighed angrily. "Fine. I'll take you back."

She was about to twist the keys on the ignition when Brittany grabbed her arm.

"Wait." She let go of Santana's arm and looked at her directly in the eye. "I'll do it."

Santana caught her breath silently when she noticed how blue Brittany's eyes were compared to the dark sky settled upon them. She cleared her throat after a few of awkward seconds. "So, should I pay you now or…" She trailed off when she felt her seatbelt snap. And then a hand unbuttoned her pants. Santana lifted herself a few inches to guide them to mid thigh.

Brittany's eyes widened when she noticed the bulge on the woman's boxers. She'd wondered for a few seconds if she was about to service some sort of lunatic. Actually, when Brittany realized Santana was a woman, her first thought was she was the wife of some man that had got it on with her and she was going to kill her or something close to that. Not that she's much more relieved now. This situation was completely awkward and embarrassing. But at least this woman seemed to be harmless.

The blonde didn't waste any more time. She groped Santana's appendage from the outside of her boxers.

Santana gasped loudly at the pressure. She really wanted to hear that small voice in the back of her head telling her that this was wrong, that she was a married woman, that she had a wife whom loved her very much (but had an odd way of demonstrating it), that she had a daughter, that she would be no better than the men that had cheated on their wives with this woman. But in that moment, with a soft hand tugging at the hem of her boxers and a pair of blue eyes looking at her, silently asking for permission, that voice had been muted.

She anxiously nodded, holding her breath when Brittany fished her cock out of its confines. In a mere two seconds, the blonde had shifted on her seat, so the angle wasn't so awkward. And then, what felt like an eternity, Brittany leaned over and took Santana's appendage into her mouth and guided it to as deep as it could go. Santana's hips involuntarily canted up, feeling her cock hit the back of the woman's throat. She moaned.

She watched a blonde head bobbing up and down. And she felt it too, she felt it _so good._ Santana kind of wanted to rest one of her hands on the woman's head, not really wanting to push her head lower or anything. She just found it _really hot_ if it looked like it.

However, she wasn't really comfortable with her arms. Her right one was resting under Brittany's torso, and now that she thought of it, it was getting completely numb. Her left arm lied on her left thigh, and sometimes, when Brittany took all of her member in, she rested her forehead on Santana's forearm – not that she really noticed. Santana slowly pulled her right arm from under the working blonde, but as she didn't feel anything, she ended up pressing it onto Brittany.

She stopped her doings, lifted her head, wiped her lips with her sleeve and asked, "Is something wrong, Lane?" One hand stroked lazily the still very hard shaft.

Santana almost didn't reply, too entranced by the pleasure that one hand was supplying. Not trusting her voice right now, she opted for shaking her head.

She could swear she saw Brittany smirking.

But when the blonde took on her previous actions, Santana simply threw her head back hitting the headrest, accompanied by a long moan. "Fuck." She breathed.

Brittany let go of Santana's cock with a loud _pop._ She replaced her mouth with slender fingers, moving them at a steady place.

Her hair fell beside her, making her actions curtained by it. Santana unconsciously took the strands of hair and held them to the side, so she could see the blonde's face. Right at that moment, Brittany started flicking her tongue on the head of Santana's member.

The pleasure was so much Santana's hand flew to the woman's head, laying it there. Unconsciously, she drew round patters on soft hair. When Brittany's wet, warm mouth enveloped Santana's cock, the tan girl couldn't help but to close her eyes and tighten her grip on the seat. She groaned as Brittany took more and more of her down her throat. "Hmm." She groaned.

And then Brittany did _something_ with her tongue that drove Santana to the edge. "I'm-I'm so close." She warned between breaths.

But Brittany wasn't pulling away.

Instead, her bobs sped up exponentially adding her hand to effect. She'd take it all in and then stop at the tip, making perfect circles with her tongue.

With a whimper and a squirm, Santana felt the liquid rushing though her shaft. "I'm gonna cum!" She warned.

And Brittany could have removed her mouth from Santana's cock, but she didn't. Instead, she picked up a faster rhythm, blowing the shaft eagerly as Santana shot her load into her throat.

For Santana, it was like she was experiencing a never-ending orgasm. Maybe it was because Brittany was a master at what she was doing. Or maybe it was the fact that she had just had her cock blown in a car, in the middle of nowhere, by a complete stranger.

When Brittany pulled away, Santana felt her appendage being hit by cold air. The only sound that could be heard was of Santana putting her clothes back on.

Then everything fell into an awkward silence.

"I'd never done that before."

Santana slowly turned to Brittany. "You had never given a blowjob?"

The blonde's eyes snapped to Santana. She shook her head. "Not without a condom-"

"Oh no." Santana suddenly realized. How could she have been stupid? She let a woman that did this everyday, to men she did not know, blow her without any kind of protection.

"I'd never given a blowjob to any man- to anyone without condom." Brittany looked down.

Santana suddenly felt relief washing over her. She wanted to ask her something like '_So, you have no STD's, right?'_ but she didn't want to be that rude. Besides, she didn't think she'd have the strength anyway, seen as she still had to find a place to stay for the night. But something bothered her, "Why me, then?"

Brittany looked up in thought for a moment but then she just shrugged.

Santana sighed before turning on the ignition. On their way back, she made sure to turn on the radio. That way, the awkward silence would be filled with sweet melodies coming from the country station. And then it occurred to her, "Where do you live?"

Brittany seemed hesitant with her answer and Santana didn't blame her. "I-"

"I just thought I could...you know, take you home." The idea of letting Brittany in the cold night, in a deserted road all by herself bothered her very much.

"Caldwell Street."

"Will you let me take you there?" Santana asked, uncertainty dripping from her voice. This was something that didn't occur frequently. But then again nothing about that night occurred frequently.

"Yes." She nodded meekly.

"Well, you'll have to tell me where to turn, okay? Otherwise we might end up in California." Santana chuckled trying to light up the mood."

"I've been to California once." Brittany said in a quiet voice.

Santana smiled a little. "Pretty, right?"

The blonde nodded, letting the corners of her lips slightly tug up.

Brittany spent the rest of the way guiding Santana through the dark night. A turn here, left on a crossroad, under a small bridge, over a stream and they got there.

The car came to a stop in front of a small house. It looked like it was made of wood, just like a cabin. A white shack, Santana thought. She counted four windows. Two of them were by each side of the door on the porch. One of the other two was covered in strips of wood, and the forth one had its glass broken. And the roof didn't look stable either. Even in the dark, Santana could see it had a couple of holes on it and that must have been inconvenient in rainy days.

What bothered her the most, though, was the small bicycle that lied forgotten on the burnt grass in the front yard. Was it possible that Brittany took care of a child? Could it be that this woman had a daughter or a son?

Sensing Santana's methodical examination, Brittany said, "It's not much, but it's home."

Santana then remembered she had yet to pay for this woman's services. She didn't even know how much she usually charged, but it didn't really matter. When a year ago said she'd like to help her, when she said she'd give her a quarter of her fortune, she never thought she'd be paying her like this. She fished out a one hundred dollar bill out of her pocket. "Here." She held it to Brittany.

Brittany took it, unfolding it in the process. "This is too much."

"Keep it." Santana told her as she looked her in the eye. And when Brittany started shaking her head, trying to push the bill into Santana's hands, the other woman folded it and closed Brittany's fist tightly around it. "Please."

"Thank you." She whispered. A few seconds passed, and Santana still hadn't let go of Brittany's closed fist. "I should go."

Santana let her hand drop and cleared her throat. "Of course." She could feel her cheeks heat but she ignored it. "Goodnight, Brittany." Santana smiled as best as she could as the woman opened the door.

"Goodnight, Lane." Brittany flashed her a tight smile while she stepped out of the car.

The tan woman looked down, feeling her lips turn into a frown. "Santana."

Turning around, Brittany tilted her head in a way Santana found unexpectedly adorable. "Sorry?"

"My name-" She cleared her throat once again. "My name's Santana, not-not Lane." She felt so embarrassed for lying in the first place. So what if this woman now knew her real name? It was just a name, it's not like she would become a stalker or search for her. She seemed incredibly innocent and perhaps too naïve for her own good.

Brittany nodded, the smile never faltering. "Goodnight, Santana."

Santana watched her go. She was caught by surprise when the blonde reached the porch and gave her a small wave, mouthing a goodbye.

She waved back.

And then she drove away. She tried finding her away back but it was dark, so she ended up taking a lot more time than she expected. When she found the motel she'd seen at the end of the road, she got a room. 203, the door read. She just hoped she could get a good night of sleep, meaning, no lousy noises being emitted by a night only affair or even affairs that have lasted for longer than they should coming from the room next door. But how could she even think like this? She wasn't one to talk. She'd just cheated on her wife with a prostitute.

Groaning at the thought, she rolled over.

Images of a bobbing blonde head came flooding through her mind. And those charming blue eyes. And how she dropped her off after a late night. And how they shyly waved at each other. It seemed surreal. And it looked awfully like the first date of two teenagers.

Eventually, drained by exhaustion, Santana fell asleep.

But when she woke up the next day, she hadn't gotten any sleep at all. She rolled over and looked at the clock on her cellphone. _11.39AM_.

"Shit." She cursed. Thinking she'd just missed work, she quickly threw her clothes on and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Puffy eyes, disheveled hair, paler than usual. She looked sick. And that is somehow how last night events reappeared on her mind. Now, she felt sick. Apart from remembering that she'd have a few days off after her promotion, everything else seemed to be falling apart.

When Santana got in her car, she made sure to avoid that endless straight road. Even if it'd take her longer to get home, she decided to drive through the other route. It was kind of a win-win situation. On one side, by taking the long way home, she would have time to think about what to say to Olivia. On the other side, she wouldn't have to face Brittany. Not that the blonde could see her, because she was definitely not planning on stopping ever again and besides, her car windows were tinted. But she was pretty sure the blonde could still recognize her car.

Unfortunately, there was almost no traffic on her usual road. Which meant she actually got home faster than she thought she would.

Olivia's car was parked out front in the driveway. Everything looked so peaceful Santana even wondered if this had all been a horrible nightmare.

With a deep inhale, she walked in her house.

"San!" Two arms engulfed her tightly, not letting any room to breathe. She struggled for a while, and, sensing the Santana's discomfort, Olivia let her grip loose but never pulled away.

Santana hugged back when she got the time to process what was happening. She buried her head on the woman's neck. "Hi, baby." She whispered in her ear.

"I'm so sorry." Olivia told her when they pulled apart, but still kind of holding each other. "I'm so, so terribly sorry, Santana." And just like that, she broke down.

Santana panicked. She didn't know what to do other than hold Olivia. She'd never seen her break down like this. She'd never seen her so vulnerable. And on top of it all, a huge wave of guilt was washing over Santana.

"Shhh." She cooed on her ear as she whispered, "It's okay. It's over." No, it's not.

"I lo-love you, so m-much, San. Don't ever leave again."

And she kept on repeating it.

Santana was getting sicker and sicker every time she would say it.

She pulled away for a second and kissed the woman, unfortunately just because she felt compelled by the words. And also because she really needed her to shut up or she'd probably throw up right there and then.

The simple kiss led to a full make out session, and soon enough they were getting rid of their clothing. As Olivia pushed Santana to the sofa she got on her knees, ready to show her wife how much she really loved her.

Santana panicked again. She couldn't let Olivia blow her. She hadn't even had a shower yet and her dick probably still tasted like Brittany. She got up, almost knocking Olivia down in the process. "Lets take this to the shower."

After the shower and the mind-blowing sex with her wife, Santana found herself staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. Olivia was snuggled to her side with a leg wrapped around her own, her head heavy on Santana's chest.

And it wasn't just the of Olivia's head that felt heavy on her. The guilt from last night doings had settled heavy upon her and it was making her go crazy. She had yet to talk to Olivia about _this_.

"Liv?"

"Hmm?" Olivia hummed while playing with the hem of Santana's loose shirt.

"Why-" She took a deep breathe. "Why have you been so distant from me lately?"

Olivia shifted a little so she could see Santana's worried face. "I didn't cheat."

Santana's eyes met hers. "I never said you did." Though it had crossed her mind.

"I didn't cheat…physically."

Santana sat up. "What do you mean 'physically'? You feel attracted to someone else?" She created a little distance between her and Olivia.

"I-"

Santana cut her off, "Who is it?"

Olivia felt tears burning her eyes. "Santana, I just told you I never cheated."

"Then what?" Her voice was growing stronger with every second that passed.

"Diane's kindergarten teacher…" Olivia spoke slowly and the tone wasn't much more audible than a whisper. At this point Santana had gotten up and started pacing back and forth furiously. "I just thought she was really pretty and for a few months she'd never leave my mind. I invited her for a cup of coffee a couple of times, but other than that, nothing happened. I swear." Olivia saw that Santana's pace was still unrelenting. "We never even kissed, San. She's straight."

Santana abruptly stopped. "So you're saying that had she been gay you would have kissed her? That's just great!" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "You know, I'm starting to think I shouldn't even unpacked."

"Don't leave again, please. I didn't mean to fall for-"

"Oh wow, first you're just attracted to her now you've actually fallen for her?" Santana felt like a hypocrite for yelling at her wife for something simply platonic when just yesterday she'd just had her cock sucked by another woman. But she loved Olivia, she was her wife, and she still felt betrayed by her.

Olivia whispered, "I love you. Not her."

"How can I believe you?" Santana was calmer now. She sat down at the edge of the bed. "You lied to me for months."

"I never lied to you, Santana." True.

Seconds passed.

"Things won't be the same for a while, Liv." Santana sighed. "You need to earn my trust again."

"I was just confused, San. You were always home late and at some point I actually thought you were cheating on me…and Jessica— the teacher— she was there for me. But it was just a silly crush. I've always loved you."

Santana sighed and then she got up. "I need some time, okay?" When she saw Olivia's face fill with worry again, she said, "I'm not leaving. I just need some time to think." Coward, she thought, this is just the easy way out. She walked around the bed and stopped in front of Olivia. Then she leaned down to kiss her cheek. "I'm going for a drive."

And that's when it hit Olivia, "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I got promoted yesterday…"

"Oh." She looked down. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Yeah."

"Congratulations, baby." Olivia seemed hesitant, but she pecked Santana on the lips nonetheless.

Santana gave her a tight smile, "Thanks."

She left her house with a straight face. But inside, she felt miserable. Olivia felt so broken and guilty because of something so platonic. And in a certain way, she should. In Santana's point of view, when they got married, they got married for life. They swore they wouldn't love anyone else. But for a few months, Olivia broke that promise. She cheated on her emotionally, even though this platonic passion was just one-sided.

Santana would have a valid point if she hadn't fucked up things last night, if she hadn't let her libido get in the way of how things really should have been done.

Turning on her car, she waved goodbye to a sad faced Olivia that was standing on the porch. She drove through Middleton and before she knew it, she was taking last night's route. She crossed her fingers and hoped that Brittany wasn't there when she passed her usual place, because if she were, she wouldn't know what to do.

After passing the Davidson's barn, she saw a grey car stopped on one side of the road. Brittany was getting out of it, or more like, pushed out. The driver had gotten out of the car, opened the door on Brittany's side and pulled her unconscious body out of it, leaving her sprawled on the dusty ground.

Santana panicked for the third time that day. Was this really happening? Was this a nightmare? She didn't know whether to pursue the man who was quickly getting in his car or stop and help Brittany. She parked and got out trying to read the license plate of the runaway.

She couldn't, he was too far away already.

Santana kneeled beside the unmoving blonde and shook her. "Brittany? C'mon, wake up." She shook her again more forcefully. Nothing. She looked around to see if any car might be approaching. Maybe they could help her. But the road was deserted, as usual. "Shit." She muttered under her breath. Santana put two fingers on the blonde's pulsing point. Her heart was calm, but steady. Santana let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

With little effort, she carried Brittany to the backseat of her car. She rushed to the driver's side, turned on the ignition and drove away, not really knowing what to do next.


	3. Don't Fear

**I've got my finals this week. That is why this is a short one. I don't have time to make it longer. And it doesn't even feel like it's good enough... But I solemnly swear the next chapter will be way longer and of higher quality. Anyway, thank you so much for all of the time you guys invest on reading and reviewing! Hope you like this one. :D  
**

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Santana kept on glancing at Brittany through the rearview mirror to check if she was still unconscious. She rolled down the backseat windows midway. Maybe some fresh air would make her gain her senses. She glanced at her again to see her blonde locks flying freely with the help of the wind. And that's when she remembered Quinn.

Santana Lopez had an epiphany.

Quinn was a nurse. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of her before? Quinn would know what to do. It had occurred to her that taking Brittany to the hospital, even though it was the right thing to do, it wasn't her best option. Olivia's mother was a doctor in Middleton's hospital. What would she say if she saw Santana walking through the doors with a blonde that had a certain reputation among the locals? She would have to tell Olivia the whole story.

She wasn't sure if she should call her beforehand or not. She couldn't really afford to stop the car and call Quinn asking her if she was home or not. She didn't even consider dialing a number while driving, not when she was in such a nervous state. She figured she could only hope Quinn worked the night before – that way she had the whole next day free.

Santana finally got to the street Quinn lived in. As she parked her car on Quinn's driveway, she crossed her fingers and hoped everything would turn out okay. She took a deep breath, turned to the backseat and said, "I'll be right back, okay?" and she observed the peaceful looking girl. "Please don't die on me."

She walked to the porch and had this been an ordinary visit, she'd have knocked three times and added a funny rhythm to it. But this visit had nothing ordinary about it. So, seeing as she really was desperate, she banged until someone opened the door.

"Santana." Quinn greeted her with a yawn. She pulled her robe tight together. "Is everything—"

"I need your help." The woman cut her off by pulling her out of the house by the arm. She guided her to her car and then opened the backseat door.

Quinn gasped when she saw the blonde sprawled across the seat. "Santana, what's this?"

"She's not an object, Quinn." Santana growled. Then her eyes softened, "Help her— please."

After carrying her inside, they laid her on the guest's room bed.

Quinn copied Santana's motion of minutes before, and checked if the woman had a pulse. "She's just passed out." She struggled to take the white jacket off of the blonde's body. "Help me here, San."

Santana didn't hesitate. She helped Quinn put the blonde on a sitting position. She watched as the woman took the jacket off. "What are you doing?"

"If she's just passed out, cooling off will wake her up." Quinn moved to the end of the bed and took Brittany's boots off. "Maybe we should take off her pants."

Santana felt her cheeks heating up as she said it. "Uh…maybe fanning her would be a good idea."

Quinn stared at her for a few seconds. Then she nodded. She walked out as she told Santana, "I'll go get something to fan her."

Santana took this opportunity to sit by the blacked out blonde. She felt the urge to run her fingers through her blonde hair, to stroke a pale cheek. Her hand stilled half way when she heard Quinn coming upstairs. Panicking, she quickly got up. She practically ran to where she had been standing before.

Luckily, Quinn walked in not even looking at Santana, so, she missed Santana's reddened cheeks and altered breathing. She had a magazine on one hand and a glass of water on the other. Santana watched as Quinn put the glass on the bedside table. She then sat on the same spot Santana had previously been sat. She started lightly fanning Brittany. "Tell me what happened."

Santana sighed. This was it. "I saw her being abandoned by some guy on the street."

Quinn shot her a narrowed eyes glare, as if Santana was lying.

"She's a—she's a prostitute." She whispered.

"What?" Quinn hissed. "What have you done?"

Santana threw her hands up in the air in defense. "Nothing! I haven't done anything." She walked to Quinn and sat beside her. "I swear. I'm serious." She looked at Brittany. Her plan, originally, was to come forward to Quinn and tell her the truth. Tell her about the fight with Olivia and how she rejected her wife to get it on with a hooker. But seeing her best friend staring at her with a disapproving look, made her lack courage. "I always see her on my way to Boise. Today she was being dumped. Literally. A man took her out of his car and let her on the side of the road. I just happened to be going by." Her eyes shifted to Quinn's.

"She has to go the hospital, Santana."

"I can't take her." She shook her head. "She has a certain reputation in Middleton. You know how Olivia's mother works there. What if she sees me carrying the town's prostitute around? What will I say?" She got up to pace around. "I can't do that."

"She was raped!" Quinn almost yelled. Santana stopped walking. "For all we know, he might've drugged her. He might've hurt her." Quinn got up as well. She placed the magazine on the bedside table next to the glass of water and walked to Santana, who was still shaking her head. "We'll go to another hospital, then."

Santana waited a few moments to think of a reply. When she finally came up with something, Brittany moaned. Quinn rushed over to the woman's side. The blonde's eyes opened slightly. After realizing she wasn't in a familiar environment, her eyes shot up completely, and if she had the strength, she would have backed way from the hazel eyes currently piercing upon her.

"Wha—"

"Drink this." Quinn extended the arm holding the glass of water.

Brittany stared at her nervously. Then she shook her head.

"It's just water." Quinn took the glass to her lips and drank a little. "See?"

The blonde then seemed to realize it wasn't just the two of them. She looked behind Quinn to find a shy and worried Santana. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she recognized the woman from the night before.

"Please drink this." Quinn insisted. "It'll make you feel better."

Brittany took the glass with shaky hands. She gulped down the cold water as became aware she was indeed very thirsty.

"What's your name?" Quinn asked.

The blonde managed to sit up against the headboard. She wiped her wet lips with the back of her hand. "Brittany." Her eyes flicked to Santana for a split second.

"I'm Quinn." The shorthaired blonde said. Then she pointed to Santana. "This here is Santana." She smiled sympathetically."She's your hero."

Santana managed to smile tightly. She was sure Brittany recognized her. She just hoped the pleading eyes she was looking at the blonde with were enough for her to realize that Quinn didn't know the whole story.

Brittany's look shifted between Quinn and Santana. "What happened? Why am I here?" She asked groggily.

"I—think you were raped." Santana's voice sounded weak. "I saw a man taking you out of his car. Then he sped off… I tried catching his license plate, but he was too far away already." And then she whispered, "I'm sorry."

There was a pregnant pause.

Brittany looked at the open door that led to the bathroom. "I think I'm gonna be sick." She got up, ignoring the dizziness coating her head, and ran towards it.

Santana practically shoved Quinn off of her way as she followed Brittany. The blonde made gagging sounds as she emptied the contents that had previously been inside her. The tan woman held her hair back as she told her, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." And she kept on saying it until Brittany stopped hurling.

Santana somehow ended up rubbing soothing circles on the blondes back. That until Brittany suddenly pushed herself away onto the corner of the bathroom. She looked at Santana with fearful eyes. The raven-haired eyes narrowed. She got closer to Brittany, but she just hid herself even more.

Santana touched her knee to get some response. "Britt—"

"Don't touch me!" She yelled.

Santana flinched at the harsh words. She looked at Quinn with scared eyes.

"We're not going to hurt you, Brittany." Quinn told her as she kneeled beside her. "We're here to help you."

Brittany's eyes were wide with fear.

"Do you want to take a shower?" Santana tentatively asked. Brittany started shaking her head. "We won't stay. I'll get you some towels and fresh clothes but we'll wait outside."

Brittany looked at Quinn for some sort of reassurance. Quinn nodded lightly. "Okay." She barely whispered.

Quinn's cellphone started ringing that precise moment. "Get her some of my clothes. The towels are in the corridor that leads to Ivy's room." Then she left.

Santana looked at Brittany. She told her softly, "I'll be right back."

Apparently Brittany took that as a sign to strip off all of her remaining clothes, because when Santana walked in the bathroom again, the blonde was in the shower already, completely naked. Both women eyes widened comically. Santana blushed furiously. "Sorry." She left the clothes on the counter and close the door behind her.

Santana tried clearing the naked woman's image out of her head as she got downstairs. Quinn was sighing heavily. "What's up?"

"Ivy's dad is being a dickhead. You know how I'm supposed to fly to New York this Friday?" She waited for Santana to nod. "Well, he says he's going out this weekend so he can't have her." She groaned in frustration.

"I seriously don't know what you saw in him, Q."

Quinn looked down. Santana looked at her with regretful eyes, obviously wishing she could take back what she'd said. Both girls stood quiet for a while, forgetting about the world outside. When they heard the water upstairs being turned off, harsh reality came crushing upon them.

"We have to take her to the hospital, San."

"Maybe she just needs some rest." Santana was unsure of what she was saying. When she looked at Quinn she saw the disbelief in her eyes. "I'm just saying. Maybe she needs some rest now, and then you'll take her."

"Me?" She hissed. "I can't believe you right now. Are you serious?"

"You're going to the hospital tomorrow, right? Maybe you could take her." Santana shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. Quinn was still staring at her with her mouth agape. "Then I would pick her up."

"So you're implying she stays here?" Quinn didn't even let Santana reply. "I have a seven-year-old to take care of, Santana!"

"I know, I know." Santana sighed. "But it's just for tonight, Q. Where else am I supposed to take her? I can't take her back—" She almost spilled the truth. She almost implied she knew where Brittany lived. Luckily, she stopped just on time. "I can't take her back to that road. I mean, what if she's raped again?"

"I'm sure she doesn't live in the streets, Santana."

_Might as well. "_How would you know that?" Santana spat.

Quinn shot her a glare. She paused before saying, "You have that apartment outside of Boise."

Santana scrunched her eyebrows. Then she narrowed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?" She half yelled. "She's a stranger."

"Oh now she's a stranger!" Quinn scoffed loudly. "She's not a stranger when it comes to her crashing at my place, right?" She let out another scoff. "Seriously, San—"

"Please, Q." Santana eyes were softer than ever. "I'll even stay here, if you don't want to be alone with her."

When Quinn sighed, Santana knew she had won – for now, at least.

"Thank you." She whispered with a soft voice in the blonde's ear as she hugged her tightly.

The sound of someone clearing their throat came from the bottom of the stairs. They turned around to see Brittany with long wet blonde hair falling down on a simple white t-shirt that seemed to be a size to small for her. The sweatpants Santana had found on Quinn's closet seemed to be too loose on her tiny waist.

"Are you feeling better now?" Quinn asked, motioning for her to sit on the couch.

Brittany nodded as she complied. "Thanks." It came out as a bare whisper.

Santana watched Quinn asking her questions about the man's physiognomy. Was he tall? Skinny? Fat? Bearded? Old? Brittany didn't look her in the eye as she nodded, shook her head or even shrugged. The tan woman really wanted to walk to her and pull her in a tight hug. Tell her that everything would hopefully turn out okay. But after getting yelled by Brittany not to touch her, she had to admit she was terrified to do so.

The day ended up going by terribly slowly for Santana.

After Quinn's interrogations, Brittany said she just wanted to sleep. And so she did. She went to the guest room and she never came out again for the rest of the afternoon. When Ivy arrived from school, they both made sure to tell her that the guest room was off limits for that day. Surprisingly, she did not object.

"Do you want me to stay?" Santana asked Quinn, who was preparing a sandwich for her daughter.

"Yes!" Ivy yelled. "Please stay, Tana." The blonde girl beamed.

"Ivy." Quinn turned to her daughter, shooting her a stern look. "No yelling."

"Sorry." She waited until Quinn turned her back to her to poke her tongue out. Santana chuckled.

"No need, San." Quinn kept chopping away, not paying attention to what was going on behind her. She handed the food to Ivy, who ran off to the living room. Quinn put down the knife and turned to the woman. "She's harmless. That girl seems too naïve for her own good."

"My thoughts exactly."

Quinn took a deep breath before saying, "I'll take her to the hospital, too."

That took Santana by surprise. "You will?"

She nodded. "But you have to pick her up, though. I don't know where she'll go after but I can't have her here, San. You have to understand that."

Santana kept on nodding. "Thank you, Quinn. I'll figure it out in the morning." Her phone started buzzing. She looked at the caller ID. _Olivia. _"I have to go."

"Alright." Quinn cleaned her hands on the rag lying on the counter.

Santana looked down. "Do you—do you mind if I say goodbye to Brittany?" She hesitantly asked.

Quinn shrugged. "Go ahead."

Santana headed upstairs, taking each step with a growing unsureness. When she stood in front of the door that led to the guest room, she took a deep breath and knocked. She didn't get a reply though. So, instead of knocking again, she opened the door, cautious not to make a lot of noise, and peeked in. Blue eyes pierced through her.

She opened the door halfway and stayed at the entrance, deciding that going in completely was pure suicidal attempt. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving."

Brittany nodded meekly. "Am I staying here?"

Santana nodded as well. "Quinn's taking you to the hospital in the morning."

"I can't stay here, Santana."

Santana flinched at the cold voice in which Brittany said her name. "Why not?"

"Because it's too much." She started shaking her head uncontrollably. "I need to go." She tried getting up but she was still wobbly, so she ended up falling on the bed.

Santana rushed to her side. "Are you okay?" She got a short nod in response. "You're not going anywhere." She waited for Brittany to get back under the covers. "Stay here tonight."

Brittany looked at Santana. Then she shook her head again.

"Nobody's going to hurt you, Britt." Santana didn't even realize she'd just shortened her name. "What I did last night— I shouldn't have done. I know you don't trust me. I'm no better than those filthy old men. If I could take it back, I would."

Then Brittany used all of her strength to say, "You are." But it came out as a whisper and she wasn't even sure if Santana had heard it.

"Just stay here tonight. And tomorrow, after you see a doctor, I'll pick you up and leave you wherever you want to. It's like I never existed to you, okay?" It hurt Santana, saying these things. She wasn't sure why but she didn't want the blonde to completely extinguish any kind of evidence that Santana was indeed a part of her life.

Brittany's eyes were as blue as ever, for she was trying to keep the tears from falling. She nodded curtly. Then, when she saw Santana face lighting up with hope, she nodded in reassurance.

"Alright." Santana smiled and got up. As she opened the door, she turned around and said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Brittany nodded again. Her face was softer than before, and there was a hint of smile on her lips.

Santana closed the door behind her, a hopeful smile gracing her features. "Maybe there is hope, after all."


	4. Possibilities

**Hello! First of all thank you for still reading this and of course, taking the time to review and favorite and all that. Second, my finals are over. Which means I now have lots of time to write. The updates will be weekly, probably from Sunday to Sunday. The chapters will be longer, so that's good right? Third, thank you anon3812 for the facts you left about rape. I actually used them on this chapter. And lastly, thank you for wishing me luck for my finals! You guys are the sweetest.  
**

**Hope you enjoy this one! :D  
**

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The sound of an alarm clock going off woke up Santana. Her eyes flew open when Olivia started moving around the bed. As she got up, Santana felt the bed stir and then she gradually became colder. In a matter of minutes, Olivia was up and ready to go to work. She fumbled around the bathroom, and then Santana heard her spraying that awful perfume that always made her feel dizzy.

Olivia must've seen Santana wrinkle her nose. She kneeled beside the once sleeping woman. "Did I wake you?" She whispered while caressing Santana's cheek.

She shook her head. The smell on the other woman made her stomach flip. She wrinkled her nose again.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Olivia asked her. Santana groaned, not feeling like giving her an answer. "It's all this dust, isn't it?" She got up. Then she touched the surface of the bedside table. She grimaced when her fingertip gathered a whole lot of dirt. "Maybe you could clean the bedroom while I'm out." She shrugged before kneeling beside Santana. This time she took a strand of dark hair and put it behind her ear. "I have to go get Diane ready for preschool."

At the mention of the word preschool, Santana remembered Diane's teacher. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. "Okay." She murmured. Then she rolled, turning her back to Olivia. Santana could hear her sigh, which made her feel kind of bad. Deep down, she knew all of this was just an act. She wasn't any better than her wife, was she?

"I have to go." Olivia stroked Santana's arm tenderly before placing a light kiss on her shoulder blade. "I love you."

Santana tried pushing away the horrible feeling building in her stomach. The silence was full of hesitance. Olivia let out a sad breath.

Santana opened her eyes once she heard the door close.

For a moment she wondered if things would ever be the same again. They'd both fucked up big. One more than the other, but maybe the other would never really know how much one really fucked up.

Sleep didn't overtake Santana, much to her dismay.

She got up, and it wasn't until she was fully stripped and had water cascading over her naked body that she remembered soon Quinn would call her to pick Brittany up from the hospital. Her hand flew to her head, hitting it with a loud thud. She mentally scolded herself.

How could she be so careless?

She dried herself with a towel that smelled too much like Olivia, not that it was a bad thing – she just wanted to forget, but there was always something pulling her back to reality.

When she got downstairs, Olivia was spreading peanut butter on a toast while Diane, who was sitting on the couch, watched the colorful cartoons with grogginess coating over her eyes. Her legs, ever so tiny, couldn't even reach the floor, so they dangled. In that moment, Santana felt like it had been too long since she'd spent time with her daughter.

"Hi, baby." She kissed the crown of her head. Her soft black curls felt like silk on her skin. She sat beside her.

"Hi, momma." Diane smiled lazily as she snuggled close to her mother. She must've sensed Santana's tension. She asked, "You okay, momma?"

That question almost made her break down. Diane's eyes bore into her own.

"Fine, baby." She kissed the little girl's nose, making her squirm in a fit of giggles.

"Di!" Olivia called from the kitchen.

Diane jumped from the couch and tugged on her momma's arm, dragging her to the kitchen with her.

"Mommy, look what the tide brought in!"

Olivia and Santana looked at their daughter with an incredulous look on her face. Santana was the first to burst out laughing. Olivia followed suit. Diane laughed as well, although not quite understand why.

When the laughing subsided, Santana kneeled in front of the toddler and kissed her face. "Aren't you the cutest thing in the whole wide world?"

Olivia watched the interaction with tender eyes.

Santana felt the stare.

They exchanged tight-lipped smiles.

"Do you want to take Di to preschool?" Olivia asked. She was obviously trying to make the mood lighter. She was obviously trying to make things right.

"Chew with your mouth shut." Santana gently warned Diane, who eagerly obeyed. "Hmm…" Brittany came to her mind. She couldn't say no, though. "Sure."

Olivia nodded, letting a victory grin lighten up her features.

"You're taking me to school, momma?" Diane asked with a mouth full, letting a few chewed pieces of toast fall to her lap.

Santana quickly caught them, putting them on the table. "Don't speak with your mouth full, Di."

The little girl nodded and chewed, swallowing dramatically. She opened her mouth. "See? No food." She smiled broadly. Santana ruffled her hair. "So," Diane got off of her chair and put her tiny hands to her hips. "Are you taking me or not?"

Olivia snorted. "She's _so_ your daughter."

Santana glared at her. "Lets go, kid."

After buckling up Diane on the backseat of her car, Santana waved an awkward goodbye at Olivia, who was also getting in her own car. As she drove, her daughter started singing along the songs passing on the radio. Santana couldn't help but smile fondly at the little girl.

When they got to preschool, Diane threw a fit. She refused to get out of the car, saying, or more like yelling, that she wanted to spend some _one on one time_ _with her momma._ Santana ended up bribing her with lots of candy and ice cream if she behaved properly.

Santana kissed her cheek goodbye and left. She stopped by a local coffee shop and got herself the biggest cup of coffee they would sell. She was so eager to drink it she burned herself multiple times. She couldn't even feel her tongue by the time she finished it. After, she sat down on her car. She constantly checked her phone. Nothing. She switched radio stations. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. She tapped her foot incessantly. She bit her nails.

She wasn't even sure why she was so nervous. No. Not nervous. Anxious. Well, she supposed they're the same thing. Maybe it was the coffee. She hasn't had a cup that big since her college days. Maybe it's this whole situation – the fact she has to pick up the prostitute she cheated on her wife with from the hospital because she was literally dumped and abandoned by some freaky man and she just happened to be passing by when it happened.

Bad timing or perhaps just karma, she muses.

Or maybe it's the fact that thinking about said prostitute makes her feel all funny inside.

Again, for unknown reasons.

Anyway, not long after all of these wonders, Santana got the call she'd been dreading to get.

"_We're at St. Luke's in Nampa." _

The conversation couldn't have been longer than fifteen seconds.

Although Quinn's voice was as soothing as always, she had a feeling that something wasn't right. Maybe they were just pointless worries generated by all of these bad events that had been happening lately. She sure hoped so.

Santana didn't even realize she had been driving like a mad woman and all she had to do was one more turn and she'd be driving in St. Luke's parking lot. It somehow dawned to her, when she saw Brittany and Quinn waiting by the main entrance, that Brittany had nowhere to go other than that shack that seemed to be falling to pieces.

"I have to go now." Quinn told them, mostly Brittany. "Everything's going to be alright." She stroked Brittany's arm and gave her an encouraging smile. "Santana, call me later, okay?"

With a quick hug and a kiss to the cheek, Quinn left in a hurry.

Brittany was looking at everything and everyone, with the exception of Santana. She fumbled with the hem of Quinn's shirt and kicked the ground with a foot. She could feel Santana's eyes on her and it was driving her crazy.

"So," Santana started tentatively, "Should we go?"

Brittany nodded. She followed Santana to her car and got in. The duffel bag – also Quinn's – lied on Brittany's feet, although the strap was secured tightly on her hands. It helped her ease off the nervousness covering her body.

Memories of two nights ago came rushing through their minds.

Once they were on the road, destination unknown, Santana lowered the volume of the radio. "What did the doctor say?"

Brittany felt tears prickling her eyes. She really didn't want to talk about that. She let out a sob involuntarily.

Santana snapped her head to her. "Are you crying?" She whispered. She wanted to stop the car on the roadside and comfort her, but at the same time she was scared Brittany would reject her. She reached the glove box, opened it and took a box of tissues out of it. "Here."

(Later on she'd blush every time she thought about this particular memory. This really wasn't one of her best moments.)

Brittany accepted the tissues with a shaking hand. "Thank you."

When her crying subsided, Santana cleared her throat, before hesitantly asking, "Do you live by yourself?"

The blonde hesitated, Santana noticed. "Yes."

Brittany's crying subsided. This was it. This was when Santana was supposed to confront her and tell her that there was no way she was going to sleep in that poor excuse of a house.

But she couldn't do it.

Instead, much like two nights ago, she found herself taking a turn here, a left on a crossroad, under a small bridge and over a stream.

When the car came to a stop, they both looked outside. Brittany sighed. Santana grimaced.

"Thank you," Brittany started, "And I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to yell at you. What you did—" She let out a shaky breath and small sob. "You saved me."

Santana let out a nervous laugh. "And I would've done it again."

And for the first time since they saw each other, they actually locked eyes. There was a tear rolling down Brittany's cheek. Santana desperately wanted to wipe it off, but she managed to get ahold of herself. What broke the silence was the grumble of a stomach.

Brittany blushed.

"Are you hungry?"

Brittany nodded. Her blush deepened.

"I am too." Santana told her, and then she asked unsurely, "Do you…do you maybe want to get something to eat?" She cleared her throat, "With me?"

The blonde opened her mouth and looked at her house. She shook her head lightly. "I can't."

This time was Santana's turn to blush. "Oh."

Brittany looked at the house again. The look on her face showed pure concern and maybe a hint of fear and anxiety. "I really should go."

Santana nodded. "I'll see you."

"Yeah." The blonde smiled faintly as she climbed out of the car. "I'll see you."

Santana watched her go with sad eyes. She felt like whatever was happening between them wasn't over just yet. Besides, Brittany seemed to be hiding something, and this something wasn't good news at all. When she walked in the front yard, Santana suddenly remembered something. She rolled down the window and called her.

Brittany turned around. She put a hand on her eyes, shielding her from the sun. She walked closer to the car. "Did I forget something?"

Santana shook her head. "I was wondering…" She paused. It was now or never. "Maybe – maybe I could give you my phone number and –" She stopped when she saw the frightened look on Brittany's face. "You don't have to give me yours. Just—just take mine and if you ever need anything, don't hesitate. Even if it's in the middle of the night." She saw Brittany biting her lip, probably pondering Santana's offer. She smiled in hope. "Please?"

"Okay." Brittany took her phone out of her back pocket and handed it to Santana, who typed on the numbers quickly.

Santana couldn't help but to grin victoriously when she handed her the phone back. "If you ever need anything, just give me a call, okay?"

"Thank you." It seemed to be everything that Brittany ever told her.

Just like that night, when Brittany got to the porch, she waved a small goodbye to Santana. She waved back with a grin still plastered all over her face.

As soon as she left, she headed straight to Quinn's.

When she got to her house, she knocked on the door much calmly than the day before. Quinn yelled from inside that the door was open.

"Hey Q—what are you doing?" She asked when she saw Quinn carrying a bunch of clothes. The pile was so big she couldn't even see her face.

"A little help here?"

Santana took half of the load into her arms. They put it on top of ironing board. After, Quinn asked, ever so politely, if she wanted something to eat or drink. Santana declined, even though she was indeed hungry.

"Santana…." Quinn started, "Brittany was raped."

Santana's facial expression remained the same. "I kind of figured that one out."

Quinn glared. "Well, they don't know for sure what happened, because Brittany refused to talk about it."

"What were the results of the tests?"

"That's the thing—Yesterday, we shouldn't have let her take that bath. The water probably erased any evidence that could be used to identify the rapist." She clenched her jaw. "It's my fault. With Matt's call and everything I wasn't even thinking straight…"

Santana was looking down at this point. She didn't want to blame Quinn. She was so ever so grateful for her taking Brittany to a hospital miles and miles away from her house. She'd done enough.

"They took a few blood samples to see if there's any drugs on her system. Thing is that too many hours passed since the rape happened. All of the drugs might be flushed out of her system by now."

"Okay." Santana breathed shakily. Guilt was falling upon her.

Quinn talked slowly and in a little voice, "Kate—the doctor – she told Brittany they were calling a police officer, so she could file a case against the rapist." She shook her head, "She threw a fit. You should have seen it. They had to call a couple of nurses to stop her. She tried running away. I know Kate quite well, so I pulled a few strings here and there and she said they wouldn't do anything about it for now. The results will arrive in a few days." She waited for Santana to give some sort of sign she was still following. "I couldn't understand why Brittany reacted like that, but then it hit me."

Santana suddenly looked up.

"Prostitution is illegal. Calling a cop wouldn't help her. If anything, it would only make things more complicated."

She nodded in understanding. She let Quinn talk, but she wasn't even listening. She kept on nodding, just so Quinn would think she was following. But her mind was on Brittany. There was a certain melancholia about this whole situation that left her hanging. She wanted nothing more than to help the blonde, but at the same time she felt like everything she'd do, wasn't enough. Maybe there was no hope after all.

"—pregnant." Quinn finished.

"Wait, what?"

"Kate said that there was a possibility that she might be pregnant. The urine tests were positive. But for a further accuracy, she had the blood test too." She took a deep sigh.

Santana didn't understand. "But—"

Quinn cut her off, sensing her doubts. "This means that if she is pregnant, it has nothing to do with the rapist. She was pregnant before." She paused. "Will the rape bring complications to the baby—quite possibly, yes."

Santana groaned. She propped her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands. She rubbed her temples furiously. "Fuck."

Quinn clicked her tongue on her teeth. Then she breathed a long sigh. "Fuck, indeed."

"I can't just leave her, Q." She looked at the blonde with worried eyes. "You didn't see where she lived. It's a shack, Q." She scoffed bitterly. "No. It's worse than a shack." She shook her head. "If she's pregnant…I can't—"

"Whoa, hold on, Santana. She might be married or have a boyfriend."

"She said she lived alone. Besides, she's a prostitute, Quinn. I don't think there are a lot of men that are in a loving relationship with hookers." She spat. Quinn said nothing. "I have to help her. I can't just sit around."

"That's nice of you, but how exactly are you going to help her? I don't mind if she stays here for a few nights, San. But she can't live here forever."

"The apartment."

"What?"

"The apartment me and Liv used to live in before we moved to Middleton. We never sold it."

Quinn shot her a 'this is a bad idea' look.

"No, no. Think about it." She got up with excitement. "The apartment is two blocks away from my office. I could check on her everyday. I'd make sure she was eating properly and everything. And I could take her to the doctors when she needed. She'd be safe."

Quinn got up too. She walked to Santana and led her once again to sit on the couch. "Look, San— I know you feel guilty for everything that happened but—"

"I do not."

"Fine. You don't." Quinn said, knowing that it'd be useless to fight her. "I know you're trying to protect her, but you don't know if she's alone in this. There might be some—"

"There's no one, Q. She said she's alone. I don't think she'd lie about it."

Quinn looked down and nodded. She had to admit Santana was right. However, "What about Olivia?" She asked.

There was a moment of silence. "I'd have to talk about this with her."

The blonde let out a bitter laugh. "Knowing her, she'll be _oh so _happy you're hanging out with the town's prostitute." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I don't think she'll be that angry." Santana muttered. "When we saw her she actually showed pity so…"

"Still." Quinn shrugged. "Liv is _tolerable_, San. But she can be a snobby bitch when she wants."

Santana sighed. "Guess I'll have to do it behind her back, then."

She ended up spending the rest of the day with Quinn. Santana left when she got a text message from Olivia saying she had to work in late that night, so she couldn't pick up Diane. They bid their goodbyes, with promises that they would soon see each other again.

And when Santana pulled up at the preschool, she got a text message.

It read, _HELP_.


	5. Your Bruise

**Hi! So...I broke my promise. I didn't upload yesterday. But hey, better late than never, right? :)  
**

**Also, I've been warned about the deleting spree...I hope this doesn't get deleted. And if it does, I've just signed up on yourfanfiction(.)com. In case the worst happens, my username at this site is yourfanfiction(.)com / ?uid=375  
**

**Hope you enjoy this one! :D  
**

* * *

Santana didn't know what to do.

For starters, she didn't recognize the number, but she had a fair grasp on who might have sent it. Still, she really hoped it wasn't Brittany.

She was early. That meant all of the kids were still inside. She couldn't just leave Diane. Truth be told, she didn't even consider that. She got out of the car and quickly entered the building.

This was, she thinks, the third time she walked in the preschool. It was warm inside, well at least compared to the temperature outside. For the first week of September, it was getting chilly pretty quickly. She saw several doors, all with a considerably big window planted on it. She walked up to them and checked if her daughter was in one of them.

"Hi." A cheerful voice scared her, forcing her to spin quickly on her heels. "Can I help you?"

"Yes—" She read the name tag. "Jessica." She almost rolled her eyes. This woman, the woman her wife was or had been so deeply infatuated with, was a spitting image of herself. Well, younger and not nearly as glamorous as Santana. But one thing she had to admit. This woman, with her young looks, dark skin, dark hair, plump lips and generous smile, had charm. "I'm looking for my daughter." The woman seemed expectant. "Diane."

"Oh." She smiled even bigger. "You must be Santana!" She almost pulled her in for a hug. Instead she grabbed her by the arm, action that nearly caused Santana to scoff and scold her for the bad professionalism, and pulled her to room 5A.

Diane was sitting at a little green table, tongue on the side of her face as she scribbled on the paper in front of her. Just like Santana, she was a lefty. With her right hand, she was holding a blonde girl's left hand—she too drew furiously. Santana smiled warmly at the sight.

"Diane." Jessica called from the door, the smile never wiping off of her face. Santana was finding it annoying.

The young girl twisted her neck as she was called. Diane gasped loudly when she saw her mother. "Momma!" She got up in a beat, never letting go of the blonde's arm. She turned to the still sitting girl and whispered something into her ear. The blonde nodded, getting up slowly, then followed Diane.

"Hi, baby." Santana kissed the crown of her head. "Who's this pretty girl?" She motioned to the little blonde shy-looking girl. Her foot literally twisted on the carpet. When she looked up, her blue eyes and rosy cheeks melted Santana.

"This is Summer." She grinned widely. "She's my best friend."

"Oh?" Santana smiled back. Summer was blushing harder. "I'm Santana. Diane's momma." She very formally extended her arm.

Summer seemed hesitant at first, not really knowing what to do. Then she took Santana's hand and shook it with her tiny one.

Diane rolled her eyes. "She knows that." There was a moment of silence. Santana was stunned. "What are you doin' here, momma?"

"I actually came to pick you up."

"But it's not time to go yet."

"I know. But mommy can't pick you up today, so you're coming with me. Okay?" Santana had now kneeled in front of them.

Diane nodded with sad with eyes. She looked down for a few seconds, in which Santana got up again. Then she looked back up. She have her the best puppy eyes and pout before she asked, "Can Summer come with us?"

Santana shook her head slowly. "Not today." She saw their pouts. "But I promise I'll talk to her mommy soon, okay?"

Then the unexpected happened. Diane and Summer started giggling. "You can't talk to her mommy." An awkward pause. "Summer has two daddies like I have two mommies." She then patted Santana's thigh. "You silly momma."

Santana was kind of really, _really _stupefied.

They bid their goodbyes and left.

With all the commotion, Santana almost forgot that she had an important mission.

She buckled Diane up, got in the car, sped off, answered to questions Diane would make and in what seemed like an eternity, she finally got to her destination. From the outside, everything seemed exceptionally calm.

She said to Diane, "Momma's just going to check on a friend, okay? Don't leave." She warned. "I'll be right back."

Santana reluctantly climbed off the car. She opened the wired gate and walked to the front porch in a rushed pace. She took a deep breath before opening the screen door, which was so loose she was afraid she might've broken it. Once opened, her shaky hand closed in a fist and knocked the door in a crescendo.

She heard noises from inside. The sounds of slippers dragging through the floor were louder. It stopped. A fraction of a second later, a knob was twisted and a door was opened, revealing Brittany. Her cheek was swollen, her eyes were puffy and her right brow had a small cut.

Santana gasped at the sight. "Oh my." She threw one hand instinctively to Brittany's face. The blonde flinched with pain and backed away. "I'm sorry." She looked to the car to check on Diane. The little girl watched the scene from afar. When she turned back around, she found Brittany's eyes watching Diane curiously. "My daughter—I was picking her up when you sent—"

"I don't need your help anymore." Brittany wrapped her arms around herself.

"But—"

"You should really go, Santana."

Santana looked down and nodded. She turned to leave but it was like _something_ whispered in her year that she couldn't just walk away from this poor woman. So, she turned around in a quick motion and, without any sort of hesitance, she said, "No. You need help. I'm going to help you." Her eyes were stern on Brittany. She wasn't backing away.

Brittany noticed that. She sighed and stepped away, holding the door for Santana. "You shouldn't leave your daughter alone."

Santana unlocked the car with a simple click on the remote. She motioned for Diane to come outside. She saw as the little girl fumbled with the buckle. In seconds, she opened the door and the gate that led to Brittany's front yard. Then she reached Santana. Diane hid behind her mother's legs, pressing against them.

"C'mon, baby." She gently pulled Diane to the front. She still refused to let go. "She's a little shy." She really didn't believe her words. Diane was never shy.

"Hi." Brittany smiled warmly. "I'm Brittany." She kneeled in front of the little girl. "I have cookies inside. Would you like some?"

Diane poked her head in between Santana's legs. She nodded quickly.

They made their ways inside. After Brittany handing the cookie jar to Diane (something that Santana would've absolutely stopped had this been another occasion—because she didn't want Diane to have bad eating habits—but she actually needed her to be distracted), the little girl plopped on the brown couch and ate away. Brittany turned on the small TV and searched for cartoons.

Santana had to admit the inside of the shack wasn't nearly as degraded as the outside. Sure, it wasn't five star hotel material, but it was acceptable. She stood at the doorway watching the blonde and her daughter.

Brittany made her way to Santana, not looking her in the eyes as she passed her. Her head hung low as she motioned for Santana to follow her. They walked in a small room. It must've been Brittany's room. The bed had its covers thrown to the end. There were clothes thrown around the room. But Santana wasn't paying any attention if the room was tidied or not. She really couldn't care less about it when she had only hurt Brittany on her mind.

"What happened?" She asked with a voice so quiet it could've been a whisper.

Brittany stood quiet. She moved around the room, picking up the clothes and putting them to a pile. "Nothing happened."

Santana sighed. She could feel the anger boiling inside of her. "Why did you send me that text?"

"What text?" She closed a drawer with particular strength. "I didn't send anything."

"Yes you did!" Santana's voice rose with every word she spoke. She fumbled around her purse and retrieved her cellphone. She found the message she was searching for. "Look." She extended her arm with the device in her hand to Brittany. The blonde didn't say anything. She still refused to look at Santana. With a sigh, she threw the phone on the bed. "I'm not here to judge you, Brittany. What I did was wrong. I regret it very much. But I can't help but to think if I hadn't done it, you could be—God knows where. You could have serious injuries." She let out a breathy, bitter laugh. "Hell, you could be dead by now." She still said nothing. "I just want to help you. And you obviously want me to help you. Otherwise you wouldn't have—"

"It was a mistake, okay?" Brittany's voice was harsh. "I should've never sent it. I just panicked but then he left." And as soon as she said, she regretted it.

"He?" Santana's stomach dropped. Boyfriend? Husband?

"Nobody." She said all too quickly. "I think you should go."

Santana's anger was rising with every second that passed. She clenched her jaw and her fists. "Are you kidding me? First you send me a message saying you needed help and then you say it's nothing." She sighed angrily. "Is this a joke to you?" Her laugh was bitter. "It must be. You know what?" She grabbed her cellphone from the bed harshly. "I'm leaving." Santana turned to leave but a hand caught her wrist.

"Don't—" As Brittany caught her wrist, she caused Santana to spin too quickly, making her stand just a few inches from her face. "Leave." She whispered.

They looked in each others eyes for a few seconds, none of them daring to part. But then Santana realized she was too caught up in the moment, so she stepped back, clearing her throat as she did so.

Santana composed herself, cleared her throat again and demanded, "You have to tell me what happened."

Brittany sighed as she sat down on the bed. "He takes—took me to work everyday." She saw Santana's expectant face. "When I started—" She paused and her cheeks flushed. "_Working_ on that road—lets just say I didn't make much of a profit." She chuckled sadly, trying to lighten up the mood. "Then one day he stopped and said I had potential and he asked me if I would like to work for him." She gulped. "I told him yes." She looked at Santana and then, as if she were justifying her actions, she said, "I really needed the money." There was a pause again. She waited for a little nod from Santana, and then she went on. "He sort of…scheduled appointments. And then he'd keep half of what I'd made that day."

Santana couldn't help but blurt out, "A pimp?" She shook her head in disbelief. "What a son of a bitch." She muttered. "Did he do this to you, Brittany?"

Brittany hesitated, then she shook her head. "No. I fell."

Santana really did laugh disbelievingly this time. "Classic. The man hits the woman, and she says she fell."

"I'm not lying." Brittany said through gritted teeth. Her fists were clenched at her sides. Santana was still shaking her head, not believing the story. "He tried coming in, but I didn't let him. I locked the front door. And he kept on banging on it."

Santana wondered if that was why the screen door was loose.

Brittany went on. "I figured he'd try to come in through the back door. So I ran to the other side of the house and I tripped. I hit my head on the floor." She saw Santana did still not believe her story. "Luckily he was probably just drunk—he was just thinking with a quarter of his brain, so he didn't check the door." She shrugged as if were no big deal. "I fell for nothing."

There was a silence in which Brittany looked at Santana, waiting for some sort of sign of acceptance, and a silence in which Santana's brain was working at sound speed.

She settled for not believing it though. "You really expect me to believe that story?"

For Santana the story seemed forced. Well, it seemed forced to anyone. But as Brittany nodded lightly, her eyes were pleading and honest.

With a sigh, Santana gave up. She walked to the doorway, and when Brittany thought she was leaving, she asked, "Do you have ice?"

Brittany got up. But Santana made her sit back down. The blonde told her where everything she asked for was, and Santana left for a couple of minutes. When she came back, she held on her hand a cloth, ice, bandages and alcohol.

She instructed Brittany to lie down. As soon as she did, Santana's face got closer to Brittany's, inspecting the cut on her brow carefully. "I don't think it needs stitches." Then she warned her softly, "This is going to burn a little."

Santana wet the tip of the cloth with alcohol and pressed it to the wound on the blonde's brow. Brittany would have shot up, if not for Santana's mantras of '_sh_' and '_I'm almost done' _and also an '_I'm so sorry'_. She finished with the appliance of a tiny bandage. After, she wrapped the ice in the same cloth and pressed it softly onto the swollen cheek. She still couldn't understand how so much damage could be done by a stupid fall.

When all that could be heard was Brittany's whimpers when she too pressed too hard, Santana asked, "You said he used to take you—does he not take you anymore?"

Brittany shook her head. "He came by just after you dropped me off. He was furious because I didn't work that day. I just told him I didn't want to work for him anymore and to leave and he started yelling but surprisingly, he did." She removed the ice and dropped it to her lap. "He came back hours later, drunk, but I didn't let him in."

Santana looked at the ground. She grabbed the ice and applied it once more to Brittany's cheek, and as she did she noticed a single tear rolling down pale skin. "Don't cry." She whispered. She breathed slowly. "Quinn told me what the doctor said—" Blue eyes flickered to hers. "It's not definite. It's probably just some sort of mistake—"

"I always use condoms."

"Yes, I know. You said so that night." She swallowed. "That's why it's probably nothing." Then something clicked on her head. "Brittany, I have an apartment in Boise. I lived there before I moved and…you could stay there for a while—" She saw Brittany starting to shake her head. "Just until this cools off."

"I can't."

"Think about it, please." She got up and then she brusquely turned around to face her. "What if you are pregnant? I can—I can take you to the doctor and everything. I don't mind. And what if that lunatic shows up again?"

Brittany stood silent.

"I don't have any money to pay you rent."

"It's okay. You can search for a job in the city or don't—I don't care. I just…I can't leave you here knowing that you might get hurt." Santana's voice was almost like a whisper at this point.

Their eyes locked once again.

This time Brittany was the one breaking off the contact. "If the results come back positive, I'll consider it."

Santana smiled a little. That wasn't a no. Although, Brittany moving to her apartment would mean that the worst had happened. "And until then?"

"Until then I have to fix that screen door."

And for the first time, after a little moment of silence, they both let out a chuckle.

"I can help you." Santana offered.

Their laughter died down. "Why do you want to help me?"

"I'm good with tools."

"No." Brittany chuckled again, but then her face turned more serious. "Why would you want to help me, a stupid hooker?"

Santana clenched her jaw. "You're not a stupid hooker." She sighed. "To be honest—I feel guilty. That night, instead of…doing what I did, I should've helped you."

Brittany didn't say anything for a few seconds. The silence was comfortable. The only thing that could be heard was the sound coming from the TV on the living room.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Santana thought she said that a lot. And in that moment, her phone started ringing. She looked at Brittany, who was looking at her expectantly, probably waiting for her to pick up the phone. It was Olivia.

She knew if she didn't pick up, Olivia would automatically think something was wrong. But she really didn't want to talk to her wife in front of Brittany. In her mind, it was all kinds of weird.

She cleared her throat. "I'll be right back." She got up with an apologetic look on her face and walked outside the room, leaving the door half-closed. "Hey." She said into the phone.

"_Hi, baby." _O

"What's up?" Santana asked, trying to sound as casual as she could.

"_They let me off early than I expected." _Her voice was cheery. And when Santana replied drily, she asked, "_Where are you?"_

Oh, shit. What would she say now? "I just picked up Di."

"_Oh. Where were you before?"_

Santana bit her tongue. She really wanted to ask her why so many questions. But instead, she kept calm and said, "At Quinn's." It wasn't entirely false.

Olivia hummed from the other side. "_Okay. Well, come home. I made you your favorite."_ She sounded cheery again."

Santana smiled a little. "Yum. I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"_Okay."_ There was a gasp showing hesitance before she said,_ "I love you."_

"You too." Santana disconnected before Olivia could say anything else.

She poked her head inside the room and saw Brittany lying on the bed with her back to the door. Had she heard the whole conversation? Not that it had much to hear, anyway. Santana walked in, the sound of her shoes muffled by the carpet. "Brittany?" She asked softly."

The blonde said nothing.

She walked around the bed. Brittany's eyes were closed. Her breathing was even. She was sleeping. Santana smiled fondly. She wanted nothing more to watch her – even though it sounded really creepy –, to sit down and put that strand of golden hair behind her ear, to trace the freckles spread across her nose.

She felt fireworks on her stomach. She felt a million butterflies.

It scared her. In fact, it scared her so much she did what she did best:

Santana ran.


	6. Brittany's Interlude

**Hello :) Long time, no see. No excuses for the delay. All I have to blame is my lack of inspiration. Forgive me. Also, this one is from Brittany's POV (in third person, though) because a reviewer asked me to post a chapter from her perspective. Here it is, though I gotta warn you, it'll probably be the only one.  
**

**Anyway, hope you like this chapter :D**

* * *

When Brittany woke up, it was the morning of the next day. Or so she thought.

The clock on her nightstand read 2.12PM.

"He didn't come." She spoke to herself. A small smile graced her features, as she finally felt free.

She was still sleepy, even after more than twelve hours of sleep. Truth is, she woke up several times during the night. It was always the same nightmare. Well, not a nightmare, more like memories and flashes from the men that had used her. And one in which the woman that had been nothing but kind to her so far – Santana – was not kind at all. Her stomach twisted.

The thoughts kept haunting her as she let the water cascade over her body. Her stomach was still churning like there was no tomorrow. She felt the heat rising, her legs growing weaker and weaker and she knew she was about to pass out. She quickly turned of the water and got out of the shower and put a towel around her body. She braced herself against the sink. And when she went to watch her reflection, the mirror was fogged, so she quickly passed a hand through it. It felt good – the cold against her skin. She had never been whiter in her life. She looked like a cadaver.

Brittany's hands were shaking. She needed to lie down. Gathering up all of her forces and sending them to her legs, she forced them to walk to her bed. As soon as she saw it, she let herself fall limp on her back.

The nausea and the shakiness soothed after a few minutes. Her body still felt hot but with her skin still wet, it was getting colder by the second. She carefully got up and dried herself. She didn't have much strength in her hands yet, but it was enough to get dressed and eat something.

Half a bowl of cereal later, she was feeling a lot better – almost normal, even. She would've eaten a full bowl if she had it. Her 'shopping for groceries' day was on Monday and last Monday was three days ago.

With nothing better to do, she settled on cleaning up the mess that had been piling up for days. She started with her bedroom but stopped halfway through because she heard her phone buzzing.

It was Santana.

She was abruptly reminded of her nightmare. A part of her felt disgusted. It was like the generous woman that had been helping her never existed and all that remained was the devil from her dream. Another part of her shook her head and tried to teach her that everything was just a terrifying nightmare, not reality. And then another real tiny part was saying that Santana was no better than those men and the reason why she was still around was because she felt guilty. She guessed this last part was associated with the first.

But Brittany shook it off, because Santana was a good woman, even if her mind told her she wasn't.

And with all this battle inside of her, she missed the call. But it was only a few seconds later that her phone was buzzing once again, this time with a text.

_Hey,_ it said.

She wasn't sure if she should be offended or not.

Such a simple 'Hey' for such a delicate situation.

Despite her mixed feelings, she found herself replying an identical message.

The response came seconds late: _Is everything alright?_

She had a terrible desire to type something sarcastic like 'Yes. Everything is just perfect.' but she wouldn't be acting like herself and Santana did seem to mean everything she said or did. She replied, 'Yes. Thanks for asking.' and she even had to rewrite once because instead of 'asking' she had written 'caring'.

_Okay, good :)_

In that moment, her stomach growled. She wished Mrs. Edwards hadn't passed away days ago. She would have given her some of her supplies for sure. Not that that was the only reason why she wished the old lady hadn't died. That would be extremely selfish and inconsiderate from her part.

Now she had no food and no neighbors from which she could ask for help.

Suddenly, Santana's offer sounded really great.

She would not cave in, though.

Another text message: _Hodgins let me go home earlier. Do you need me to fetch anything?_

She was confused. Who was Hodgins? She was assuming it was Santana's boss, but still, had the woman mentioned him in a past conversation? Sometimes Brittany zoned out, she admitted it, but Santana and her hadn't had that many conversations and from the few they she could remember every single word.

Her stomach growled once again. It was like it was telling her to take the opportunity. But she had too much proudness in her to make a simple request. She decided not to reply, and if the woman asked her again, she would lie and tell her she never got anything.

The phone buzzed again. _Can I come over?_

Brittany pondered her options. She was feeling lonely and some company might help her forget about everything that's going on, even though Santana was a trigger for many memories.

She made her decision.

Approximately forty-five minutes later, she heard a car parking outside, then a door being slammed and seconds after the screen door was being opened. Brittany was at the door already – she just waited for Santana to knock three times. When she did, she waited a few awkward seconds (in which she just stared at the door) to not seem like she was looking forward to actually see Santana.

She opened the door. Santana was wearing a very professional attire – pencil skirt, white blouse and heels – and even though that outfit was extremely appealing, what Brittany noticed the most were her eyes. They were red and she had bags under them. She figured their expressions were mirrored in each other.

"Hi." Santana smiled, all of her teeth showing.

Brittany smiled back. She didn't say anything to her, she just stepped back and let the other woman walk in her house. She closed the door and when she turned around, Santana was waiting for her by the couch.

"You can sit down, you know." Brittany told her with a somewhat playful smile.

Santana mumbled, "Yeah, okay. I knew that" and then proceeded to sit. She seemed nervous, Brittany noticed.

"I would offer you something to eat or drink but I'm kind of out of stock, at the moment." The blonde said. Her cheeks immediately flushed a tinge of red.

"It's okay. I ate in Boise." Santana smiled sympathetically. Then something hit her and her face turned into a frown. "You don't have a car and the nearest supermarket is like," She frowned even more. "—miles away."

"The lady that lived next to me used to take me with her to the supermarket." Brittany never looked at Santana as she spoke. "She passed away last week." She shrugged as if it were nothing. She looked at Santana to see her frowning. Brittany didn't like her frown. "It's not that far. I can walk."

Santana suddenly got up. She shook her head. "Nonsense. We'll go now."

Brittany looked down. "It's okay. You don't have to."

The dark haired woman walked up to her and when she was standing a few inches in front of her, she said, "I want to." and she smiled.

"I'll be right back then."

Brittany was almost at her bedroom door when Santana yelled, "I'll be in the car!"

As she entered the room, she quickly kneeled beside the bed. She carefully took a few bills from her savings jar, stuffed them in her pocket and put the jar back in its place. She got up so quickly she ended up with her head spinning. She steadied herself and headed out. She locked the door and when she started walking across her yard she saw Santana with a hand on her ear and the other gesticulating like crazy. She must've been talking on the phone. Brittany's pace slowed down a bit, she didn't want to intrude in anything. But soon enough, she was reaching the car.

The door handle was a trigger for harsh uninvited memories. The cold, menacing eyes Santana looked at her with in the dream appeared when she closed her eyes for a split second. But just like that, they were gone too.

Her mind momentarily shut down. She didn't know what to do, how to open the door. Her legs felt like jelly and her hands weren't strong enough to hold on to something firm. But she wasn't falling. Two strong arms had wrapped around her torso at the last second.

Santana's voice sounded distant. It was like Brittany was underwater and someone was talking to her from the surface. She lost her senses for seconds, possibly minutes, but it wasn't long till she started getting aware of her surroundings. And she was cold. Her eyes kind of burned when she tried opening them. Was she really underwater? But her body wasn't wet. And there was a slight breeze – not too warm, not too cold – blowing on her face. Ignoring the burning sensation, she managed to open her eyes, squinting them first and then opening them completely.

She tried snapping her neck when she felt fingertips or what seemed like fingertips graze her cheek and then her pulsing point and then lower and lower (skipping her chest) and going straight to her stomach, but it felt numb. Weird, she thought, Brittany could swear she was wearing a shirt. The fingertips caressing her stomach were touching bare skin.

Her neck was no longer heavy and feelingless.

She was shirtless, lying on her bed, her neck was wet, her eyelids too (apparently) and Santana was looking at her with a gaze that she couldn't quite place. She quickly regained the strength she needed to jump away from the woman's touch.

"What—" Brittany's voice started off raspy, so she cleared her throat. "What are you doing?" She sort of yelled.

"I'm not—" Santana was cut off by more yells.

"Where's my shirt?" Brittany tried getting up but felt dizzy, falling back again, but still managing to be in a sitting position. "Fuck." She muttered.

Santana tossed the blonde's shirt – it had been resting on her lap – at her. Brittany felt something hitting her face. She gasped slightly.

"Sorry." Santana said. Her voice sounded honest, like she didn't mean to snap and aim the object at her face. Then, very calmly and rather caring, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

Brittany wondered what kind of question was that. "What—"

"You passed out." She breathed. "You always pass out on me." Santana let out a breathy chuckle through sad lips.

Brittany noticed it didn't match her worried eyes.

"Why am I—"

Santana cut her off once again. "Half-naked?"

The blonde nodded faintly.

"The other day, when I took you to Quinn's— she did this. She said it'd help you wake you up." She paused as if she were thinking. "Have you eaten lunch?"

She supposed half a bowl of cereal wasn't considered lunch. When she spoke, her voice was as a whisper, "Kind of." She looked at Santana when she said. The woman was staring at her expectantly but Brittany didn't elaborate.

Santana sighed. She got up from the bed and walked to door.

Brittany watched her twist the knob, not understanding what she was doing. "Where are you going?" She managed to ask.

"You're in luck." She said through the faintest of smiles. "Oli— On my way here I stopped by the supermarket to grab something to eat for dinner."

Brittany was going to protest. But she didn't have the time because Santana purposely walked out the second after she she'd said it. She sighed and once again was met with wars inside her head. She ended up reaching the conclusion that she just didn't know what Santana's motives were.

One minute after Santana had left, she heard the main door opening and then closing with a loud thud. It actually frightened her a bit, making her jump in her place. There was a split second where she thought the worst might happen but then Santana's head popped in through the entrance, almost making her sigh in relief.

"Do you want to come to the living room while I cook you something?"

And minutes later she was sitting on the couch with a blanket over her knees watching whatever was on. She could hear Santana stirring something and the sound of another something frying. Brittany was barely noticing the man on the TV when she heard the smoothest of voices. Santana was singing – Brittany even turned the television on mute – and she sang like an angel.

It wasn't long till the sweet smell of homemade food invaded the living room.

She waited for Santana to call her to the kitchen, but, instead, the mountain came to Mohammed.

"Here." Santana placed the plate on the table in front of Brittany. "I have to make a quick phone call, if you don't mind." And there was that smile again, the smile that Brittany couldn't figure what caused it. It was like Santana was afraid of leaving her or something.

Surprisingly it didn't annoy her.

Santana went outside to talk with someone. Brittany felt a pang of hurt at the thought. They were strangers, after all. It's perfectly normal that Santana doesn't want to talk to whomever in front of herself. She just has to shrug and move forward.

She took a bite of the food. It was delicious.

In that moment, she wondered when this kindness coming from Santana was going to end. When was she going to leave her? Even if she's being a caring human being now, she still paid her for a blowjob. And although she took her home after, it was only because she was feeling terribly guilty.

She took another bite. It didn't taste so tasty all of a sudden.

The evil part of her mind was winning.

A discomforting heaviness settled upon her stomach after she had those thoughts. When she finished her meal, she had a terrible mood. It didn't help that Santana was taking a long time with that call.

Speaking of the devil.

"Hey." Santana smiled when she walked in the room. "How was it?"

Brittany managed a smile (even if it was a tight one). "Delicious." She patted her stomach as she lied back on the sofa. "Thank you."

"I wish I had had the time to make something more…elaborate."

"You've done more than enough." She kept on smiling the tight-lipped smile.

"Alright. Well…hmm—"

Needless to say, they fell in the most awkward of silences.

Until Santana spoke up, "Do you know when you're getting your exam results back?", making it impossibly even more awkward.

Brittany didn't want to talk about this subject. She looked at Santana, hoping that her eyes spoke for her. Their eye contact lasted for about four seconds until Santana nodded meekly, understanding what Brittany was silently asking for.

"What about that man—" Santana hesitated. "Did he try to reach you again?"

The blonde shook her head. She wished she could smile at the thought of finally being free and independent, but there was something about it that just didn't settle right.

Santana, however, unaware of the Brittany's concerns, grinned so big she showed all of her perfect white teeth. But her smile faltered when she inspected the other woman's face. "You were supposed to go to—" She cleared her throat, "—work, right?"

A nod.

"And he didn't show up to pick you up?"

She shook her head.

"Did he come here?"

Brittany was going to shake her head but then she wondered. What if he had shown up and she was just sleeping and didn't hear him? She needed to check her phone. She quickly got up, almost running to her bedroom, leaving a confused Santana behind.

Her phone lied forgotten on her bed under some covers. It was relatively hard to find it. As Brittany searched for it, Santana had decided to follow her.

"What are you doing?"

Brittany ignored her.

"Are you okay? I thought you were going to be sick or someth—"

"Found it!" Brittany yelled, smiling victoriously. Then her face became serious as she searched for new messages or missed calls. Nothing. She let out a relieved sigh. "No."

"Oh, God. What is it?" Santana had ran to Brittany, and with worried brows she frantically asked, "Are you going to puke or faint or—"

Brittany shook her head. "No. I'm fine. I meant 'no', he didn't come here."

"Oh." Santana smiled again. Then she chuckled, appearing to be relieved. "Thank God." She let out a laugh. "I thought I would have to take you to Quinn's again." She kept chuckling breathy laughs as if she were nervous or actually really relieved or maybe a little bit of both.

But Brittany didn't think it was funny at all. Her face remained stoic – well from Santana's point of view, because Brittany was scared. Brittany was scared of what that man could do or could have done. And Santana didn't understand, and if she did, she hid it very well. So her face remained like stone, waiting for Santana too cease her fit of relief and nervousness.

Almost immediately, Santana (who must've sensed Brittany's mood) stopped and said, "I'm glad you're okay. Everything's going to be fine, Brittany."

Something inside Brittany stopped and noticed the way her name rolled of the other woman's tongue. Her mind raced, racing for a reason to why this might have happened. Instead, all of her thoughts were replaced with a loud thud coming from outside.

Their heads instantly turned in its direction.

Brittany was frozen in her place. She looked at Santana, desperately hoping she was superwoman, desperately hoping she hadn't just said what she'd just said, desperately hating she had meant it.

Santana and Brittany looked at each other at the same time, sharing the same worried look.

Brittany saw Santana clenching her jaw.

"Stay here." The woman said as she took unsteady steps towards the hall that led to the main entrance.

Brittany was still frozen. But when she saw Santana moving, she snapped. What was Santana doing? If it was _him_, he was probably drunk and she'd seen the gun he carries with him all the time. God knows what he could do. Disobeying Santana, she followed right behind her.

The woman had stopped by the nearest window to the porch. The blinds were down (and thank God for that) so she had to push one of the slats down to take a peek outside. Brittany didn't even realize she was about to hit Santana until she did, causing the brunette to jump a little and releasing the slat completely. Once she returned to her spying position, Brittany wondered if she had managed to see anything.

There was another thud, a louder one. It came from the porch. It was just like the screen door had been opened and then closed. Brittany pressed against Santana involuntarily. She started feeling rapid thumps against her chest. She was scared, but apparently so was Santana. The thumps weren't coming from her own ribcage. No. It was all Santana.

And before Brittany could think of anything, just like before, something interrupted her. This time, _someone._ Santana jolted back, letting go of the slat with a loud crack. She pushed Brittany back unintentionally, almost making her fall.

"Brittany," She started softly but sternly, "I think the man you worked for is outside." Brittany was about to say something but Santana hushed her. "Go hide in your bedroom or another room where you're safe." She clenched her jaw when Brittany once again tried refuting Santana's proposition. Then her features softened, "Please."

"But what about you?"

"Just do what I tell you," Santana's eye bore into Brittany's soul. "Please."

Brittany wanted to say something. She just didn't know what. So, she settled with a meek nod. There was a '_Be Careful'_ that got stuck in her throat.

Somehow, Santana read her mind. When Brittany didn't get up, Santana said, "I'll be careful." And she smiled.

After another meek, faint nod, Brittany got up and tiptoed to her bedroom as if the person outside could hear what was going on inside. She closed the door, sat on the bed and silently prayed. She heard the main door being opened.

Santana yelled, "Hey!", but it was muffled by the doors of Brittany's bedroom.

After that, everything became deafeningly silent.


	7. Dares

**So, someone asked me a couple of chapters ago if this was set in Idaho. Yes, it is! I've never been, to be honest…but I'm a huge John Mayer fan and I was watching his latest video and apparently he made a trip around the state and the sceneries were so peaceful, so I figured it'd be a nice place to set my story in. Just a warning, this is my shortest chapter so far and I apologize for it, but I just didn't know how to make it longer, besides, I have great ideas for chapter eight already. And I'm done with school for real, so this next chapter should be up sooner than you expect. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! :)**

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It wasn't until she heard the door to Brittany's room close that Santana took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob that would lead her to perhaps one of the most frightening experiences in her life. She momentarily compared the rapid heartbeat, the sweat, the fear, to when she last year took Diane to the corn maze. Santana had taken her eyes off of her daughter for a second and that was more than enough to lose sight of her. She ended up finding her not long after.

But nothing compared to this kind of fear. Santana feared for herself, but mostly, she feared for Brittany. She knew if something happened to herself, this man would go after the other woman and he would hurt her, for sure. So, with a shaky hand she pushed the door open and mustered the strength for a shout.

"Hey!" She yelled.

The man turned around abruptly, losing some of his balance as he did so. He was definitely not handsome, but he wasn't the fat, bearded man Santana had made up to be. He was tall and had black greasy hair. His shirt was not buttoned up completely. Some of his chest hairs were poking out through it. She grimaced when she saw this.

His head tilted a little to the left and furrowed his brows, obviously not recognizing this person. Then he smirked and slurred, "You look different." His smirk only grew as he took another few steps. "Sexier."

She decided to ignore the closing distance between them, and also what he had just said. "Can I help you?" Her voice wavered but she pretended not to notice it.

He checked her out not very subtly and then he told her, "Yes, you can." He tried walking one more step but Santana took a step back, reaching blindly for the doorknob – just in case she'd need to use it.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She shot him a glare, though really, she was just hiding her trembling eyes. She just wanted this to be over.

He seemed to sober up almost instantly. "I'm looking for Brittany."

"There is no one called Brittany here, sir." There was a lie quickly building up in her head. "Wrong house." Then she turned around to walk in the house again, but his voice stopped her.

"What do you mean 'there is no one called Brittany here'?" His words were starting to turn into a harsh tone. "There was one yesterday."

She clenched her jaw. She felt like she was reaching a dead end.

He clenched his jaw as well. Then he walked to Santana, coming dangerously close to her. In fact so close, she could smell alcohol in his breath. "You let me in right now, or else—" His speech seemed to die down and Santana didn't understanding why, until he pointed to his car and said, "I have a gun in my car."

She must've looked like Snow White right then. The sweat on the back of her neck turned into cold liquid when he said those words.

"Listen, sir," She started trying to remain very calm. She looked down and gulped. She, somehow, in a space of mere seconds, had written a plot in her mind. She silently prayed he would believe her. "I'm not from here. I'm short on money and I happened to be very lucky to find this house in such short notice. The woman that lived here literally threw me the keys and just said she was moving to Canada." Possible the worst story ever told, but somehow, he seemed to buy it.

He opened his mouth once, twice, and then he closed it. He was looking down when he said, "Canada?"

She nodded one time. "But she didn't say her name was Brittany. She said she was called—Lane."

"What color was her hair?" His question was asked with a smug tone. But Santana couldn't understand why it was relevant.

She ended up lying and saying, "Black."

"And her eyes?"

She narrowed her eyes as if feigning thought. "I think…blue."

He seemed to be completely sober by now. With a fisted hand, he punched the wall behind Santana, making her close her eyes tightly with fear.

"That bitch!" He shouted into the air.

Her eyes were still closed when she heard footsteps quickly fading away. She opened them just in time to see the scary man getting in his car. He didn't even look back once. He simply sped off, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

And then, when she couldn't see his car anymore, Santana let her back slide down the door. She pulled her knees close to her chest and she took deep breaths like never before. She breathed in relief.

It was over. For now, at least. She had a feeling he didn't buy her story completely. He'd probably try again later.

After what felt like an eternity, Santana opened the door and walked in. The silence was horrible. It was heavy and it made her feel like this was just the calm before the storm. With small steps, she walked down the hall until she stopped in front of the door that led to Brittany's room. She opened it with a small smile on her face, glad that she was going to be able to tell Brittany that it was over and the man was gone. But she ended up frowning when the room had nobody in it.

"Brittany?" She tried calling.

Then she heard something shuffling. Brittany poked her head from underneath the bed looking completely flustered. When she saw Santana was alone, she dragged herself from her shelter.

"Is he gone?" She asked in a small voice.

Santana nodded once. Then again but more eagerly, letting the frown be replaced by a relieved smile. She opted not to ask why was she hiding under the bed. The answer seemed to be pretty obvious.

"I sort of made up a story—" She stopped what she was saying when she saw Brittany's face.

The blonde had a trembling lip and a huge pout. Her blue eyes were bluer than Santana had ever seen them. She was going to cry, Santana realized. Her heart broke when she sobbed loudly. Brittany sat on the bed. Her chest involuntarily rose up and down with every gasp and sob.

Santana wasn't good with these kinds of situations. She usually panicked, so, from a distance she would say reassuring words or give a few pats in the shoulder or the arm or some appropriate part of the body. But this time was different. Brittany was so broken and she just wanted to be the one to fix her. So, she dared to do what she had never done before. Santana kneeled in front of the blonde. She hesitated to push some golden locks away from her pretty face, and then, when Brittany had her eyes fixed on hers, she slowly leaned in and gave her the tightest hug she had ever given to anyone.

"Don't cry." Santana whispered. She took hold of Brittany's head with a hand. She caressed her soft silky hair. "Don't cry."

They rock back and forth as Brittany clung to her with her life. She was crying so hard Santana started to feel her shoulder wet. The woman sobbed a couple of times more and then she parted from Santana. They locked eyes as Santana still caressed her hair.

"I wet your shirt." Brittany spoke with a hoarse voice. She threatened to sob once more but Santana shushed her.

"It'll dry."

A few tears threatened to slide down Brittany's neck. Santana quickly wiped them off of her jaw and then a naughty sneaky one rapidly slid down her jawline and onto her neck. The tan woman watch it roll down. She suddenly felt the urge to taste the drop of salty water on her lips. As if it could read Santana's mind, the tear slowed its pace, begging to be kissed off the creamy skin. She felt blue eyes piercing through her, burning her skull, but she couldn't stop take her own eyes off of that precious white skin.

Brittany must've figured out where Santana's eyes were looking at. Her breathing pattern changed and her jugular jumped with each thud of her heart.

The silence was once again heavy with tension.

The silence was once again loud.

Santana could swear she heard Brittany's heart beat. But then again, she wasn't too sure. She definitely heard her own in her ears – she felt it, even. When she remembered the long forgotten drop of water, it had rolled down or maybe even dried off. She couldn't be sure.

And with a deep breath, she dared to be entranced by the blue orbs. Just like Medusa's, they petrified her. She couldn't move. Her body was of stone. She blinked them once for a split second – when they were burning from being dry – and in the next, without even realizing it, her body gravitated towards Brittany's.

Santana's lips were parted as she breathed heavily. Brittany's face mirrored hers. The vein on the blonde's neck was now pulsating at an impossible speed, but Santana didn't notice. Her stare was completely focused on Brittany's eyes, and her cute nose and the thousands of freckles that covered it.

She rested her hands on each of the other woman's thighs and raised her face to meet Brittany's. They never broke the gaze between them. And then, with the easiest of movements, Santana pressed her pouty lips to Brittany's.

The moment her lips touched the other woman's she knew she didn't want to touch anyone else's.

They didn't move for a while. They simply stayed there, trying to get a firm grasp of whatever was happening. It felt like the time didn't move. The moment seemed unending.

But then Santana parted from Brittany.

She wanted once more to taste the other woman's delicate lips. Kissing Brittany was something out of this world, to beautiful for words.

Something exquisite.

In that moment she, once again, dared to attach her plump lips to Brittany's thin ones. But the blonde had beaten her to it.

Brittany kissed her gently. Her lips moved against Santana's hesitantly. She moved her hands to the side of Santana's arms, tugging on them so she would move to the bed with her.

Santana seemed to understand what Brittany was silently pleading, so, she broke the kiss and inhaled. She laid Brittany on her back and did the same. She turned her body to Brittany's and propped her head on one elbow. She kissed her lazily, slowly, not rushing anything. She wasn't even turned on. The butterflies on her stomach seemed to grow, and grow, and grow. Their immensity scared Santana, but she was merely acting on pure instinct. She didn't realize Brittany had started to cry again. It wasn't until a small tear wet her cheek that she took notice of what was happening.

She moved her face a couple of inches apart from Brittany's and she started kissing her rosy cheeks.

"Don't cry." She kissed her closed eyelids. "It's okay." She let her own forehead rest on Brittany's. "It's all over." She kissed her nose. She kissed her freckles. She kissed her temples. She kissed the corner of her mouth. And then she resumed to kissing those lips, those lips that she couldn't get enough of.

"Santana." Brittany tried saying when the other woman was too busy kissing her jawline. "This isn't right."

Santana stopped her motions. Her brown eyes desperately searched for blue, but Brittany refused to look at Santana.

"No—Brittany." She gently turned the blonde's face to her. "It's okay. It is." She nodded reassuringly. She wasn't sure whom she was trying to reassure. These surreal moments of tenderness she had just shared with this woman, they were wrong and they shouldn't have happened. But it's too late to take it back, and she isn't sure if she regretted this. "I swear it is."

Santana kissed her one more time, and then she said, "Brittany, you have to leave." She stroked her cheek at the puzzled look the other woman gave her, "He's going to look for you here again." She touched her lips. "I told him you ran off to Canada, but I'm not sure if he completely believed it." Her eyes flicked to her lips as she touched them. "Come live to my apartment."

"You told him I left to Canada?" Brittany played with a lock of Santana's black hair. She smiled a little. "Santana, we've talked about this."

"I know, I know." She sighed. "But I didn't know of this man's existence in your life. He can hurt you and I won't allow that." She poked her nose very gently. "Just until this cools off." Her eyes were pleading. "You'll get a job in Boise, nothing fancy if you don't want to— a waitress, maybe? Not that you can't do much better than that, because I know you can. Just a job for you to get financial stability and when you get on your feet, you'll do whatever you want to."

Brittany looked at Santana through skeptical eyes. "I'll think ab—"

"No." Santana shook her head. Determined to state her point and change Brittany's mind, she said, "No. While you think about it, that man is loading his gun and he's getting ready to come here and search this house."

Brittany opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"I don't care if you don't stay in my apartment." Santana's tone was much softer now. "Just don't stay here." And then she gasped in hesitance. She got an idea, a brilliant one, but she wasn't too sure if she should act on it. "Maybe if I talk to Quinn, she'll let you stay there a few days— just until you get settled."

Brittany stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. She turned her neck to Santana and she nodded a very faint nod. But it was a nod nonetheless. Then she pressed her lips to Santana's and nodded more firmly. "Okay."

Santana wasn't sure she was hearing it right. "Okay?"

"Okay." Brittany smiled with her pearly white teeth showing.

They kissed deeply and slowly for minutes, hours, even.

Santana's phone buzzed a couple of times. But she didn't even hear it. No. She kept placing soft kisses all over the blonde's perfect face.

She'd deal with the real world later.


	8. The Weight Of Guilt

**Follow my tumblr for questions or updates: .com  
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**Also, I'm writing a story of maybe five chapters. I'm not sure if to upload it or not. What do you think?**

**To Beth: I'm not sure if you're following this story still. I apologize. I didn't even think of it to be quite honest. From now on, I'll warn about possible triggers. Thank you for the heads up.**

**Enjoy!**

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A kiss changed everything. A simple touch to the lips turned Santana's life upside down. And maybe Brittany's, but she couldn't be sure. The woman was still a bit tense around Santana and that made it hard to read her.

At home, Santana carried the weight of guilt on her shoulders. She was getting used to Olivia's affections again. Her wife seemed to be trying to amend things. Little did she know whatever happened to them, couldn't be fixed.

A week passed since that afternoon. Unfortunately, for Santana, work was taking every single hour of her precious day. She had only been with Brittany once since that afternoon. Missing her terribly, she told her she'd try to stop by on Saturday.

And in the following Friday, Olivia surprised Santana with a romantic getaway to Olivia's parents' cabin at one of the reservoirs in Salmon River Mountains. Of course Santana was reluctant. She didn't want to go to a cabin in the middle of God knows where alone with her wife. Besides, she had already made plans with Brittany. Kind of.

"Insanity." She told her. "What about Diane? We can't just leave her."

Olivia approached her with a seductive smile. "Diane will stay with my sister." She ran her fingers along Santana's arm. "I miss you, San."

The words got stuck in her throat. She shrugged internally and added one more to the pile of lies, "I miss you too, Liv."

Olivia leaned in and kissed Santana gently, lingering for a few seconds. And then she whispered, "Pack your things." And then she turned to leave, but she gasped in realization of something, "Or don't. We won't be needing much clothing anyway."

Had this been other times, Santana would've just pushed Olivia against the bed and fucked her senseless. But, although the thought crossed her mind, she decided against it.

She felt like she was cheating on Brittany.

At 7, after leaving Diane with Olivia's sister, they headed to the mountains.

Olivia drove the car most of the way. When they passed the straight road, Santana paled. She knew Brittany didn't work in that kind of business anymore, but at the same time, she was afraid the woman had gone back on her word. She mentally kicked herself for ever doubting Brittany. That innocent angel would never ever lie to her, she thought.

But then Olivia thought out loud, "I wonder what happened to the girl that was always here."

And Santana felt heat rushing to her cheeks. The weight of guilt was becoming heavier and heavier. She shrugged, "How would I know?"

Although it came out a little bit too defensive from her part, Olivia seemed to either not notice or just ignore it, or maybe both. She kept on talking about her, "Poor woman."

Poor woman indeed, Santana thought. She was thinking of something to reply, _anything_, but Olivia cut her to it.

"Anyway," She started, "You should try to get some sleep now. You won't be sleeping much, later." She smirked and took her eyes off the road to look at a wide-eyed Santana. "What?" Olivia asked seductively and then she touched Santana's thigh, squeezing it.

Her hand was coming dangerously close to the woman's crotch and Santana's body was betraying her. She was getting hard. Her eyes had been closed. Determined to stop Olivia's doings, she opened them. They were about to hit a car when Santana yelled, "Watch the road!", making Olivia abruptly steer back to their lane.

The car swerved violently, and they were back on track.

"What the fuck, Olivia!" She breathed. Her heart beat fast. "Quit being such a horn dog and try not to get us killed." Santana snapped.

"Sorry." Olivia muttered. "I was just trying to—"

Santana sighed angrily. "Just drive."

They spent an hour and a half in an awkward silence. When the sky darkened completely, Santana broke it by saying, "Let me drive."

Olivia took her eyes off the road for a second before nodding.

They stopped at a gas station to buy goods for the two days and took it as an opportunity to switch places. Olivia quickly fell asleep on the passenger seat.

Santana couldn't help but to let her mind wander to a certain blonde. She wondered what she was doing. And then she looked to the side and saw the peaceful look on Olivia's face. She felt like a horrible monster right then. She was cheating on her wife and she sensed she was reaching a dead end. The guilt was becoming heavier and heavier and she was snapping easily at her. She thought the only reason why her wife still hadn't said anything about her constant bad mood and angriness was because Santana was always kind of snappy and besides, she knew Santana had a lot of pressure from work and perhaps she was a little stressed out.

But Santana betted Olivia didn't even think that her own wife was cheating on her, probably because she still felt a little guilty from that kindergarten teacher situation.

With all of the thinking, they reached their destination sooner than expected. She sighed when she turned off the ignition after parking the car on the cabin's driveway. The map light turned on automatically. Santana looked once more to her wife's features and felt a pang of pity. She still loved her and cared for her, and part of her knew that she couldn't just abandon Olivia.

"Honey," She cooed, "Honey, wake up."

Nothing.

"Liv." She touched her upper arm gently, "Baby."

This time, Olivia let a whiny sound come out.

Santana felt an immense urge to kiss her lips, so, she leaned forward very slowly and kissed her very softly. Olivia let out another whiny whimper, but this time she let a small smile grace her lips, which only added more to Santana's guiltiness.

"San." She whispered groggily.

"We're here." Santana said, her body drifted from Olivia's when she realized she shouldn't have kissed her. She cleaned her throat, "Lets take the suitcases inside."

Santana did most of the work. Olivia said something about preparing a bath for the both and she left Santana to carry all of the bags. Not that they were many but she wasn't super woman, and seen as most of them were Olivia's, she could've at least taken one.

She put them down hastily and let out an angry breath when she heard Olivia shuffling around the water in the Jacuzzi.

"Olivia," She called although she already knew where the woman were, "Where are you?" She asked as she walked to the hot tub room.

"Hello, sexy." She greeted Santana seductively, "Join me?"

Santana panicked. She knew what was bound to happen if she joined her. And it was wrong. She would be cheating. At that, half of Santana laughed and told her she needed to sort out her priorities. Had she forgotten whom she was married to? Not Brittany – Olivia. She was supposed to get blowjobs from Olivia – not Brittany. And she was supposed to let herself be seduced by her wife and forget about Brittany, at least for a while.

"Baby?" Olivia's voice filled the room and snapped her out of her trance. "Are you coming or not?"

That night, Olivia made love to Santana. Santana had sex with Olivia.

And on the following day, Santana (thankfully) got a call from her boss saying there was an emergency with one of their clients. So they had to leave, much to Olivia's reluctance who wanted to talk to that Hodgins guy and tell him to find somebody else. Santana and her fought that morning, a really ugly fight.

The car ride back home was dreadfully silent. Santana tried turning on the radio a couple of times, only to be angrily turned off by Olivia.

Instead of dropping her off at home, they drove straight away to Boise where Olivia (much to anyone's surprise) patiently waited for Santana in their car. It turned out the urgent situation wasn't that complicated at all, so Santana was done in less than half an hour. That only added more fuel to Olivia's temper. They stopped by Olivia's sister to pick up Diane. The silence was quickly filled with random questions from the little girl, but even then, their answers were quick and showed a big lack of interest. At least from Olivia's part. She even got mad at Diane for something completely pointless. The little girl had never gotten yelled at, so she started sobbing. And that's when Santana, once again, snapped.

"What is wrong with you?" She yelled once they were alone in their kitchen.

"Here we go again." She laughed bitterly. "What have I done this time, Santana?"

"I get it that you're angry with me but why would you yell at Diane?" She pointed in the backyards direction. That was where their daughter was playing. "For God's sakes, Olivia."

Olivia remained silent. But her breathing was heavy and she was fisting her hands.

Santana kept yelling at the woman. She even brought up Jessica, the kindergarten teacher. And that's when Olivia had had enough.

She started sobbing. "Screw you, Santana." And she ran upstairs and slammed the bedroom door.

Santana yelled in frustration. She felt like destroying everything, but then she saw Diane at the door. She saw the big pout and the teary eyes. So, she ran to her and kneeled in front of her.

"Why are you crying, baby?" She wiped a couple of tears from a rosy cheek.

"Are you and mommy getting a—a divorce?" Her pout only got bigger as she sobbed a couple more times.

Santana lied a lot lately, but she didn't want to lie to her baby.

"I don't know, Di." She sighed. "I don't know."

"Tommy's parents got a divorce and—" She sobbed again. "Tommy's daddy moved and he never _seed_ him again."

"Oh, baby." Santana hugged her tightly never wanting let go. "I'm never leaving you." She parted from her, but held on to her arm distance. "You hear me?" She looked her deeply in the eyes. "I'm never leaving you." She rested her forehead on the girl's. "Ever."

"Okay." Diane nodded meekly as she touched her momma's cheek. "Okay."

They stayed like that for a few seconds.

"Momma's gotta go do a couple of errands." Santana broke the silence. "But I'll be back." She held her pinky to Diane's who wrapped hers tightly around it. "I promise."

After that, Santana drove to Brittany's house, not even bothering to inform Olivia of her whereabouts. Well, in her defense, she couldn't really tell her she was going to the house of the woman she was having some sort of affair with.

"Hi." Brittany greeted her with a smile.

Santana kissed her cheek with a quick peck and walked in the familiar house.

"How are you?" She asked as she sat down.

Brittany sat down beside her and shrugged. "Okay. How are you?"

"I have a wife." Santana blurted out.

Everything became kind of silent after that. There was a thunderstorm approaching them and the wind was blowing at full speed. It kept making the screen door and the gate Santana hadn't closed hit repeatedly.

"I know." Brittany said softly. "You have a toddler and you wear a ring on your third finger." She paused. "I kind of figured that one out." She laughed nervously.

Santana smiled at Brittany's astute explanation as she looked at her ring. Then she said very slowly "We had a fight a few days ago."

Brittany looked at Santana through curious eyes, nodding for her to go on.

"She said she fell in love with another woman." She looked down. "I got mad at her and left for that night. That's when I—" She inhaled and exhaled shakily, "That's when I picked you up." She stopped to look at Brittany. Then she took her hands in hers and went on, "After, I felt so bad. I'd seen you a few times on that road and I always promised I'd help you, somehow. And I only made things worst—" She felt tears running down her cheeks.

Brittany took her hands off of Santana's and wrapped her arms tightly around the other woman's torso. Santana cried on Brittany's shoulder.

"Okay." The blonde said.

Santana parted from her and, with confusion written all over her face, she asked with a shaky voice. "Okay?"

"I'll move into your apartment."

Santana took a few seconds to process the information. Had she heard right? Brittany was giving in? She saw the blonde nodding as if in confirmation to what she'd just thought. Santana didn't even say anything, she lunged forward and kissed Brittany's lips like never before.

When they broke away, Brittany was still staring wide opened at Santana.

"You won't regret this." She said, "You don't have to worry about my wife or anything. She never goes to that apartment. It isn't hers, anyway." Santana rambled but she didn't elaborate.

There was another silence.

"You didn't tell her?" Brittany broke it. "You didn't tell your wife?"

Santana looked at her like a deer caught in headlights. She was not expecting that question. "N—No." A pause. Then she whispered, "It's none of her business."

Brittany nodded and bit her lip as she looked down.

Brittany's sad look but she didn't say anything else, and Santana was afraid of pushing it. They didn't say anything else for a little while. The storm was getting worse and worse by the minute. It had started raining a few minutes after Santana's arrival, but she hadn't even noticed. She felt a drop hit her cheek.

"What—" She cleaned the water off of her cheek. She looked up just in time for another to hit her forehead.

"Oh my." Brittany blushed furiously. "I'm so, so sorry." She got up and pulled Santana with her. She desperately tried to wipe the water off of the other woman's face.

"It's okay, Britt." Santana nodded with a soft smile on her face. Then when she saw the blonde was still looking down, she put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face up. She was pouting, so, Santana kissed her lips very softly until the pout was gone.

When they parted, Santana smiled goofily and said, "So, do you need any help packing?"


	9. The Forgotten Bicycle

**So, this is the longest chapter I've written. And I also enjoyed writing it so... To be honest, the real story starts now. I'm not sure how many chapters are left, but I this story will have a max of 22 or 23 chapters. For all of those wanting me to get rid of Olivia, you'll just have to wait for it. All I'm saying is shit will hit the fan. Also, I'm writing another story, but it's shorter and it's not girl!peen so stay tuned.**

**Anyway, I hope you like this one :)**

* * *

The moving was relatively easy.

Santana wasn't sure what the blonde would take or not, so she called up Quinn and told her all about her plan. Quinn simply sighed and, knowing she would be fighting an already lost battle by telling her she was making several big mistakes, she agreed to help them.

It was a Saturday morning when it happened.

Since Quinn couldn't leave Ivy home alone she brought her along. And Santana brought Diane too because Olivia had wanted to spend the weekend with her sister. Santana didn't object, of course, and besides, it would be a good distraction for little Di to play with Ivy and forget about the week's past events.

As Santana expected, Brittany didn't have much to take with her. Her possessions consisted mainly of clothes and a few books. Three boxes were more than enough to carry her belongings. In fact, the third box was the smallest, and it wasn't even filled to the top.

While Quinn and Santana carried the boxes to the car, Brittany called Mrs. Edwards' son and told him she was moving out and so she was leaving the key under the broken vase by the door. It all seemed a little rushed to Santana.

But she was forced to forget about it when Ivy came up to Quinn and asked, "Mom?" She tugged on her sleeve to get her attention. When Quinn looked down, she continued, "Can I teach Diane how to ride a bike?"

"Sure, honey." Quinn answered, barely paying any attention.

Ivy squealed and left.

Santana closed her car's door and let her body fall limp against it.

"I think we're done." She said.

"So," Quinn did the same as Santana, "—when are you planning on telling Olivia?"

There was a pause.

Santana looked at Quinn as if startled by the question.

"I'm not."

"Santana—"

"Look, Quinn," The woman snapped. "I really appreciate what you've done for Brittany, but this is my life, okay? I know what I'm doing."

Quinn raised her brows and looked down as she shrugged slowly.

"If you say so."

"But what if Olivia asks Diane what you guys did today and she tells her you helped the pretty blonde move into your apartment?"

Santana was silent for a few seconds and when Quinn thought she had won the battle, she spoke up.

"She doesn't know it's my apartment." She sighed. "I'll tell her you and I were helping a friend of yours move into her new apartment in Boise."

Another silence.

"That's actually pretty good." Quinn told her with an amused smile. "But why does it have to be my friend?"

"Because she knows beside you, I don't really get along with no one else." Santana told her in a small voice.

Quinn looked at her apologetically, sensing the woman's discomfort.

"God." Santana breathed. "I need a smoke."

She took a cigarette from her back pocket and a lighter. As she was lighting it, she noticed Quinn staring at her with a perplexed look.

Santana shrugged nonchalantly and with her lips holding the cigarette, she asked, "What?"

"Since when do you smoke?"

"I've always smoked." She flicked the lighter and the flame came to life. Santana took the first drag and when she exhaled, she felt she was breathing in relief.

"I haven't seen you smoking since the day Diane was born."

There was another pause.

"Yeah, well." Santana dragged out the word, indicating she had no interest in talking about the subject whatsoever.

Quinn sighed. "Suit yourself, Santana."

Then she left the woman wondering and walked back in the house.

Santana rolled her eyes. It was like suddenly she was doing everything wrong and Quinn was always there, scolding her. It's not like she didn't know she should Olivia about this situation, but didn't have the courage, or better, she was just waiting for the right moment. And so what if she started smoking again. She won't become a chimney. It's just a stupid cigarette to alleviate the stress.

Brittany emerged from the house and walked up to Santana with a smile that got the other woman's heart racing.

"I think I'm ready." She told her. Then she watched carefully as Santana took a painfully slow drag.

Santana looked at her sensing Brittany was inspecting her thoroughly.

"Want one?" She asked motioning to the cigarette.

The blonde shook her head.

Santana shrugged. "Where's Quinn?"

And just then the blonde came into view with a crying Diane on her arms and an on-the-verge-of-tears Ivy just behind her. Santana threw the cigarette to the ground not even bothering to extinguish it. She ran to the blonde.

"What happened?" She asked frantically while she looked at Diane's crying face.

"Momma—" Diane pouted.

"I'm sorry." Ivy started crying as well. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want her to fall. I swear it was an accident."

Brittany, who quickly caught notice of the situation, led them inside the already locked up house. Quinn sat Diane on the couch and kneeled beside her, as well as the other three.

"Baby," Santana cooed. She wasn't feeling her daughter's pain physically, but her heart hurt when she saw her weeping. "Don't cry."

"Where does it hurt, honey?" Quinn asked as softly as she could.

"My kn—knee." She sobbed. "It burns."

Quinn rolled the girl's pants right above her knee. It was wounded but it was nothing major. Santana breathed a sigh of relief. She thought Diane had a broken leg or arm or any other bone.

"Brittany, can you get me a wet cloth, please?" Quinn asked after blowing on the wound.

Brittany quickly got up from the ground. As she was halfway to the kitchen, Quinn yelled, "Grab a band-aid if you have one!"

Diane's crying subsided. She was just sobbing very quietly now as Brittany re-entered the living room with cloth and a box of band-aids. She handed them to Quinn who quickly pressed it to the bleeding knee.

The little girl gasped and her body tensed when she felt something cold and wet touching her wound. She soon relaxed when she realized it didn't burn anymore. Quinn kept blowing cold air on her now wet knee, making it feel even colder. After, she dried it with the tip of the cloth that was still dry and placed the band-aid. She looked amusingly at Brittany when she saw there were unicorns on it.

The blonde blushed and looked away.

"There." Quinn whispered. "Does it still hurt?"

Diane nodded faintly.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?" Santana asked her knowing her child would fall for that one.

She nodded, so Santana leaned in, and very, very softly, placed a kiss on top of the unicorn band-aid.

"Better?"

Diane nodded again with a hint of smile.

Brittany left to the kitchen to place the cloth in the sink, while Santana and Quinn carried Ivy and Diane to the car. Then, with a whispered goodbye to the house that was her shelter for months, she closed the door, locked it and hid the key under the broken vase.

Santana had waited for her by her car after sitting a barely awake Diane on the car seat.

"Hey." She greeted her softly, resisting the urge to kiss those barely irresistible lips.

"We can go now." Brittany gave her a tight-lipped smile.

Santana nodded. She sensed some sort of discomfort from the blonde's part, but she shrugged it off and got in her car. Brittany climbed on to the passenger seat with a little of reluctance, although not exactly showing it.

"I'll go in the backseat." She said.

"No. It's okay." Quinn smiled as she sat with Diane and Ivy. "I need to have a talk with this lady here." She tried to look sternly at her daughter.

"Oh." Brittany's shoulders dropped with disappointment. Then she sat next to Santana in the front purposely avoiding looking at her.

Santana, once more, sensed the tension between them. She wasn't sure why, but she had the feeling Brittany didn't want to be next to her or something like that. All she knew was her stomach dropped at the thought of Brittany rejecting her. They hadn't discussed their "thing" yet, so Santana wasn't sure where they stood. They would kiss for hours but that was it. They didn't talk much, and when they did it was mostly Santana initiating it.

"So, Ivy," Quinn started, accidentally snapping Santana out of her deep thinking, "How did Diane fall?"

Ivy's face was scared and apologetic. "I was teaching her how to ride a bike."

Quinn was puzzled. Then her mouth shaped a perfect 'o' when she realized this had been partly her fault – if not completely. But one thing she didn't understand.

"Where did you find a bike, honey?" Her voice was much softer now that she had guilt on her shoulders as well.

"It was in Brittany's front yard." Ivy said very quietly.

Santana's neck instantly snapped to the rearview mirror to lock eyes with Quinn. They shared a concerned look, both wondering why would there be a children's bike on Brittany's yard. The memory had been forgotten in Santana's mind. With everything happening to them, she forgot she had seen the bike the first night she had with Brittany.

They shared a brief look again in which they had a silent conversation saying they would ask Brittany about this later, when there were no kinds of distractions. Quinn nodded and Santana went back to driving.

Forty-five minutes later, they were entering Boise. Of course there would be a traffic jam just outside the city, Santana thought. There were cars honking and drivers shouting at each other. Brittany seemed startled with all the commotion. She had fallen asleep half way and woke up with a terrible headache and an empty stomach. It had grumbled a few times, but the noise coming from the reckless drivers were muffling it.

Santana kept muttering curses and hitting the steer wheel with her fist, occasionally honking at some car.

"Calm down, Santana." Quinn rolled her eyes. "What's the point in getting all worked up for nothing? It's not like the car will suddenly get wings and start flying over the traffic."

Diane and Ivy giggled like silly girls.

Santana twisted and turned to a giggling Diane.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" She asked feigning a menacing look. She snapped her seatbelt and started tickling her daughter. She soon did the same to Ivy alternating between the girls and sometimes even Quinn.

When they stopped, Ivy whined, "I'm hungry."

"We can go to McDonalds when we go through this mass of cars, yeah?" Quinn assured, and at the same time directed her question to Santana.

"McDonalds sounds good to me." She replied and then she looked at Brittany.

The woman's head was resting against the window as she was staring straight ahead. She must've sensed Santana's stare because she clenched her jaw and unclenched it as her cheeks turned a light shade of crimson.

The car next to them honked for several seconds and Santana saw as Brittany flinched and squinted her eyes as if in pain.

Santana's hand, used to caressing the woman (albeit in secrecy), instantly shot to Brittany's face to caress it tenderly. But Brittany flinched even more, this time looking at Santana with frightened eyes. Her body was completely against the car door, trying to run from Santana's innocent touch.

Santana was startled as well. She knew she was walking on a tight line with her, but she didn't expect her to run from a simple touch to the skin.

Quinn took notice of what was happening. She touched Brittany's shoulder gently.

"It's okay, Brittany." She assured as she squeezed it a little. "It's just Santana. She won't hurt you."

Brittany was still looking with wide eyes at Santana, but she visibly relaxed.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

Santana nodded a faint nod, still caught up in a huge turmoil inside of her head.

A couple of minutes later, much to Santana's surprise, they were moving. Thank God for that, she thought. She didn't want to spend a second more next to Brittany. She was officially scared of the woman's reactions. After all of what they'd done, like kissing and staring at each other's eyes for hours, a touch to the cheek and she'd ruined it all.

Suddenly, she wasn't hungry anymore.

As she parked the car in the park at McDonalds, she caught Brittany looking at her from the corner of her eye. As the woman had done earlier, she too clenched her jaw and breathed shallowly.

Santana turned the ignition off and opened the door. She walked to Diane's side and took her out of the seat. With everyone out of the car, she gripped tightly to her daughter's hand and walked in the restaurant.

As expected, it was packed to its fullest.

To get their food they had to wait another good ten minutes and the fact that Santana was already pissed from all of the traffic from before and the other delicate situation she didn't want to dwell on – still it didn't mean she didn't thought of it, because she did – didn't help. She wanted to pay for Brittany's lunch, but she was scared of what could have happened so she was really glad Quinn had beaten her to it.

They took their food to the tables outside of the restaurant since there were no tables inside, and besides, the day was warm and sunny, and Santana didn't really need a bunch of kids and angry parents yelling on her ears.

Quinn and the two girls chatted animatedly as Santana and Brittany concentrated hard, too hard even, on their food. Neither of the two lifted their heads as they ate. Santana would occasionally smile at something her daughter said, but other than that, she didn't react much.

"Can we go to the swings?" Ivy pleaded her mother as soon as they finished their meal.

"Sure, honey." Quinn smiled warmly. When they were getting up with shouts of joy, she turned to Ivy and told her, "You have to be careful with Di, Ivy. She's still a baby."

Ivy nodded firmly. "I will."

"Okay. Be careful."

And as soon as they did, a heavy silence settled upon them. It was awkward, too.

Quinn broke it.

"Did you like your cheeseburger?" She asked Brittany.

For the first time since they sat down, she lifted her head.

With a hint of a smile, she nodded and replied, "Thank you. I'll pay you—"

"Nonsense." Quinn cut her off.

Brittany seemed defeated. So she gave Quinn a light shrug as if she were saying 'it's your loss' and then she shot her a playful smirk.

Quinn laughed at that. She lightly and playfully punched the woman's upper arm.

Santana was fuming. She didn't show it, but if real life were made of cartoons, there would be smoke coming off of her nose and her eyes would be green. Brittany acted so normal around Quinn. They completely ignored Santana. It was as if they were lost in their own little world. Brittany talked to Quinn about Mrs. Edwards' son and how he was a good man and a very nice person.

And Santana's cartooned eyes kept turning greener and greener.

Brittany giggled at something Quinn said and that was the last straw for her.

"I need a smoke." She abruptly got up, accidentally knocking the cup and it weren't for the plastic cover she would have spilled her beverage all over the table. "Sorry." She muttered and then she started walking away.

The other two were dumbfounded and kind of startled at Santana's sudden reaction. Brittany's blue eyes were wide, not fearful but cautious. Quinn's eyebrows shot up but she looked condescending, like she already knew Santana would do something like this.

Santana's plan was to walk to the swings and play with the girls, but she decided to watch them from afar, not wanting them to catch the smoke. She sighed after blowing out the first drag. She mentally scolded herself for running away and acting so childishly, but truth be told, watching Brittany interact so openly with Quinn or talking so well about another man while just minutes ago she had been scared by a simple touch from Santana made her stomach drop.

When she went back to the table, Brittany was gone.

"Where's Brittany?" She asked as she sat down.

"Bathroom." Quinn answered nonchalantly as she read something on her cup. Then suddenly, her eyes were on Santana. "What was that about?"

Santana acted indifferently, "What was what about?"

"You basically snapped at us." She raised her eyebrow questioningly. "Care to elaborate?"

"I needed a smoke." Santana shrugged.

"Right." Quinn sighed unconvincingly, "Well, Brittany is coming back and I'm going to ask her about the bike."

Santana nodded with uncertainty. She took a deep breath, knowing whatever came out of the conversation would only add to the pile of drama.

Brittany smiled apologetically at Santana as she sat. The other woman only stared back, not having the strength or will to smile back.

"Brittany…" Quinn started unsurely, "I—we—we would like to know if you have—" She cleared her throat, "Kids."

The blonde looked between the two and then she shook her head. Santana let out a breath of relief she didn't know she was holding, but Quinn went on.

"Then why was there a bike in your yard?"

"Before I—" She took a deep breath, "Started working on that road I was unemployed and sometimes I took care of Mrs. Edwards' granddaughter while she went to the doctor." She looked at them carefully. "She must've left it there."

"She just left it there?" Quinn interrogated her.

Santana's head snapped at he in disbelief. Quinn was definitely not buying it. Brittany had that honest look in her eyes again. Brittany was the purest person she knew. And it was in that moment that Santana knew she would never lie to her, ever.

"Mrs. Edwards and her son had a nasty fight just before I—got a job. Her granddaughter never came back."

She looked between Santana and Quinn, trying to read them.

"I believe you." Santana told her. She wanted badly to reach across the table and take Brittany's hand in hers, but she decided not to. Firstly, Quinn would find the tenderness weird, seen as Santana is not usually a woman given to affections. And secondly, she was scared Brittany would react badly as she had in the car.

"Thank you." Brittany whispered.

They shared a look no one could decipher.

"Okay." Quinn said in response to Brittany's story. "I'm sorry I–we just had to be sure."

Brittany nodded. "I understand."

But Santana knew she didn't. She knew she didn't because she had asked her previously a question of the same sorts and Brittany had said she lived alone. Why would she have a kid and not live with him or her? That just didn't make sense in Santana's mind and that's part of why she believed Brittany so easily.

Quinn looked at her phone.

"It's getting late." Quinn said but she directed it to Santana. She was subtly reminding Santana that she soon had to go home to her wife.

"It's okay." Santana replied sharply. "We have all afternoon."

Quinn nodded. "Well, should we go get the apartment ready?"

The ride to the apartment was quieter than previous one, mostly because Quinn, Ivy and Diane had fallen asleep halfway in, even though the trip was a mere fifteen minutes.

Santana's apartment was on a building in Saint Laurent's street, just a few blocks away from the building Santana worked in. She parked the car on the below ground park and then, after waking up the three sleeping girls, they got themselves in an elevator and headed to the 11th floor.

Apartment 1107 was one of the nicest in the building. Santana had almost forgotten about that fact. She walked in the hallway and it was as if everything had just lied there, forgotten. It wasn't really an apartment – she liked to think of it as a New York City studio. It had barely any divisions, except for the bathroom and the laundry. One of the walls was practically made of glass, if not for the little spaces between the windows. They were covered with blinds, making the room darker.

Before flipping the switch to turn the light on, she decided to impress Brittany. She walked over to the curtains and pulled the string as if she was pulling a sail, and they started going up. The view of the other buildings below eleventh floor was wonderful.

Brittany sauntered over to the windows and watched the cars go by or the planes in the sky. She looked at Santana, and Santana looked at her.

Santana smiled nervously. "What do you think?"

"S, I'm going to get the boxes." Quinn interrupted them but they didn't seem to hear her.

She left alone with the two little girls.

Brittany hadn't realized she was standing on a wood platform a few inches above the rest of the apartment. She looked around the studio. There were two walls perpendicular to the windows but the one closer to them was shorter than the other leaving a gap which Brittany guessed to be the where the bed was. They were still on the platform. And then there was small step to the original floor. There was a door there that she guessed led to the bathroom. The kitchenette was also on that floor.

The couch and a small vintage chair were back on the platform and there was a TV the same size as the one she had back in the house she used to live.

"I think it's perfect." She told Santana.

"I'm glad you think so." Then she sighed and started walking around the room. "I miss it here."

There was a moment of silence.

Brittany observed a nostalgic Santana.

Santana sensed eyes on her. She looked at Brittany and locked a stare with her.

Unbeknownst to her own self, she had started taking small, slow steps in the blonde's direction. When she reached her they were seven inches apart.

Santana wanted to look away and so did Brittany, but they were as if glued.

"I really want to kiss you." Santana whispered.

Her arm started rising, wanting to touch the woman's face, but she remembered the scene in the car. She stilled her motions but before she could drop it back to its place, Brittany pulled it to her face, letting Santana's warm hand rest against her cheek. She leaned in to the touch and closed her eyes.

They both heard the movements in the hallway, as well as Quinn's voice, Diane and Ivy's giggles.

Brittany took Santana's hand to her lips and kissed it softly before gently releasing it.

Santana was sure her heart was about to explode. First it started beating like crazy and then, when Brittany kissed her hand with such tender lips, it swelled as it had never swollen before.

When Quinn and the girls walked in the studio, Brittany and Santana were still looking at each other but there was a considerable distance between them.

"Here, momma." Diane handed Santana the smallest box they had needed to fill.

"Wow!" Santana kneeled beside her. "You're such a strong girl, Di." She feigned impression.

Diane nodded smugly. "Summer said that too 'cause once Mark was pushing her and I saved her 'cause I pushed him better and he felt to the ground."

Santana wanted to prep the girl with pecks for her adorableness but instead she shook her head, "Di, what did I say about pushing?"

"It's bad and only bad _persons_do it and I'm not a bad person." She muttered, but then she quickly added, "But he was hurting her, momma."

"No pushing." Santana's words were final. She got up and kissed the top of head.

From the corner of her eye, she sensed Brittany looking at her. Feeling brave, Santana dared to look back. Brittany shot her a warm smile, amazed by her sweetness to her daughter, and Santana blushed so hard she was sure her red cheeks could be seen from space. She smiled back shyly and then she concentrated on Quinn.

"Hey, Q. What do you want me to do?" She laughed smugly at the rhyme.

Quinn ignored her laugh. "There's not much to do." She pulled her upper lip with her teeth in thought. "Lets get this cleaned first and then Brittany can organize her stuff."

Santana nodded. "Alright."

They got a few cloths and started cleaning away. There was a lot of dust and a lot of huge spiders. If it were Santana, she would refuse to stay in the studio while the spiders still lived there, but Brittany seemed okay with them.

After a clean bathroom, they passed a mop on the dirty floor and cleaned the windows, which Santana opened to let the studio breath in fresh air.

Then Quinn got an unexpected call. Her ex-husband called saying he was in town and basically demanded to see Ivy. The girl was ecstatic. She was so happy that she got to see her daddy she didn't even let Quinn say a proper goodbye to the women.

"Wait," Santana called. "Who's going to take you home?"

"Knowing Matt, he'll want to take us home." She sighed. "I bet he'll even try to sleep over."

Santana rolled her eyes but nodded nonetheless. "Call me if you need anything."

With a rushed goodbye, they parted, leaving Santana, Brittany and Diane alone.

Diane didn't miss Ivy much after she started playing with the toy she got at McDonalds. Santana turned on the television on the cartoon channel and left it there, knowing her daughter would soon forget about the toy.

That left Brittany and Santana by themselves. They had yet to change the sheets and Brittany still had to put her clothes and books in their places.

They walked to area where the bed was located and, in one swift move, Santana took the white sheet covering the mattress.

"I have some bed sheets in a box." The blonde said.

Brittany came back with some white sheets. The two of them together arranged the bed perfectly. Santana threw herself on the bed, making it squeak. Brittany looked at her through amused eyes.

"Come here." Santana patted the empty spot beside her.

Brittany climbed onto the bed slowly. She lied on her stomach, draped her arm around the other woman's torso, and turned her head to Santana as she watched her staring at the white ceiling.

Santana unexpectedly turned her head to Brittany, leaving their faces with a tiny little gap between them. Santana scooted even closer to her, letting their noses bump.

And then, instead of kissing her lips, she simply looked into those striking blue eyes and rested her forehead against Brittany's.


	10. Okay

**Hey, hey, long time no see! I have no excuses. I just didn't feel like writing, to be honest. Anyway, thank you so much for all the feedback and I hope you enjoy :D**

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The day after, Sunday, Santana reluctantly returned home. Olivia was only planning on going back to their house that afternoon, so Santana didn't really have to explain why she didn't sleep at home. And she could only pray Olivia didn't ask a lot of questions to Diane, because she knew the little girl would say something about Brittany, and that couldn't happen.

She was cooking dinner for Diane and herself, not really sure if her wife would make it in time, when Olivia walked in the kitchen.

"Hello, my precious little baby." Olivia greeted her daughter affectionately. She nuzzled her neck and earned a few giggles from the little girl. Then she turned her attention to Santana, who was watching everything with kind eyes. "Hey." She smiled softly with a hint of sadness.

"Hi." Santana reciprocated. "How was your sister?"

Olivia let put a sigh as she sat at the counter. "Pretty good." Then she let another smile grace her lips. "She's pregnant again."

"Again?" Santana scoffed playfully. "A couple more and she has a whole football team."

The other woman let out a breathy laugh.

Then there was silence.

"We should have another baby." Olivia blurted out, although it came in no more than a whisper.

But it was loud enough for Santana to hear. Luckily, her back was turned to her wife, so Olivia couldn't see the look of pain mixed with anxiety and nervousness that coated her.

Santana turned around slowly.

"Diane," She spoke softly, "Why don't you go watch Dora?" Then she looked at the clock. "I think it already started, honey."

Their daughter jumped off of the seat and made her way to the living room.

"I don't want another baby." She told her with her back still turned to her.

_At least not with you._

She sighed as she turned around slowly. Then, instead of looking into Olivia's eyes, she looked down.

"Olivia… What we have—had, is long gone." She shook her head slightly as she reminisced these past months. "Think of it. I worked so hard I barely saw you and in the meantime, you managed to fall in love with another woman. And after that, I just— I felt like the bond that we had— that trust bond? It broke." She tried not to think of Brittany, however, she ended up going there and that made her feel like an hypocrite but she knew that she had to hide her. "It just isn't there anymore. I'll always love you." She smiled. "You are the mother of my child, and obviously, after being so many years with you, I'll always care about you." And then she finally looked into Olivia's teary eyes. "I'm just not in love with you anymore."

Olivia said nothing. Her teary eyes let a tear drop. But, besides it rolling down her cheek, her facial expression remained stoic.

After what felt like minutes, she spoke up.

"So, now what? We get a divorce and that's it?" Her voice was rising slightly, "And what about Diane? She's going to swing from mother to mother? She's three!"

"Almost four."

Olivia shot her an incredulous look.

"Olivia, this is not healthy for our baby girl! We're always fighting for everything and nothing. I mean," Santana shook her head angrily, "You even snapped at her for no reason a few days ago."

"Oh!" She laughed angrily. "So now it's my fault? You're such a hypocrite! It's not like you did anything to save this! You didn't even try to—"

"Oh, please." Santana angrily threw the cloth she was holding to the counter. "This—" She pointed to Olivia and herself, "This has no possible salvation. We were done when you fell for that cheap doppelganger of me." She yelled. Then she laughed. "If we weren't done before, we're definitely done now!"

"Thank God!" Olivia got up harshly, throwing the chair to the ground at the same time. "I'm so sick of you. I'm so sick of putting up with your stupid moods." Then she laughed mischievously. "You're such a guy, Santana."

Santana clenched her jaw.

"All you ever want is sex," She continued, "And when I'm not in the mood you just throw a fit and leave."

"Shut up!" Santana yelled, "Shut up! Don't you dare say that! Those are all lies! You know damn well I would do anything for you." Then she sighed deeply, trying to calm herself, "I don't—didn't care about the sex, Olivia. What hurt the most was the rejection and all of the stories you'd make up to avoid me." She scoffed, "I mean, there was a time, a whole month I think, when you told me you had your period every time I tried to make a move on you." She clenched her jaw, "Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

"I—"

"I'm done with you, Olivia." Her voice broke, "I tried to be with you since you told me about the other woman, I tried to look at you like I had before. But I couldn't. And now—I try to end this as smoothly as possible and you turn this against me— against us."

Olivia stood silent as she waited for Santana to go on.

"Olivia, you are Diane's mother." She sighed, "I don't want to end this on bad terms."

Her wife kept her silence. She nodded meekly. Once, twice. And then she nodded more forcefully as she sniffed.

"I'm sorry, Santana." She sniffed again as she wiped a tear. "I'm so, so sorry."

Santana's heart broke. She walked a couple of steps to hug her.

The embrace lasted for long moments. Olivia kept weeping and shedding tears into Santana's shirt. She too had started crying, although she wasn't sure if they were tears of happiness, relief or despair.

"I'm sorry too, Liv."

She meant those words perhaps more than Olivia did. She felt bad but she just knew she couldn't tell her what really happened nights ago, and what happened yesterday – well, what had been happening for weeks, now. Part of it was to protect Brittany, to protect Olivia and most of it, to protect her from losing Diane. If Olivia found out Santana had cheated on her with a prostitute, she was sure her wife and family would do everything they could to make sure that Santana lost Diane's custody.

After a while they broke apart, and with some sniffles, sad smiles and breathy laughs, Santana called Diane and made Olivia sit so they could eat dinner.

It was strange that it wasn't strange at all. Sometimes, between bites, Santana would catch Olivia staring at her food with glassy eyes and sad lips, but other than that, the meal went perfectly as if nothing had happened at all.

"So," Olivia started when they both finished tucking Diane in, "How will we tell her?"

Santana gently closed the door of their bedroom behind her.

"She caught us fighting a couple of days ago." She looked down, "She asked me if we were getting a divorce."

Olivia looked at her expectantly.

"I didn't say no." She continued, "But I didn't say yes either." She paused and then she looked at Olivia, "I couldn't lie to her."

Her wife nodded. "We'll find a way."

Silence.

"I've been meaning to tell you something, San."

Santana's heart drummed loudly. She was nervous to what that something could be.

"I—" She took a deep breath. "I got a promotion."

"That's great, Liv!" She hugged her quickly. "Congrats."

Olivia's smile was full of pride, but also something Santana couldn't quite place.

"I have to move to New York." She whispered.

More silence – a pondering one, this time.

"So, you're saying—"

"I'm saying that I want to take Diane with me."

Santana's mouth fell agape. "You must be crazy. Do you know where New York is, Olivia? It's on the other side of the country. I work in Boise! Do you know where that is?" She scoffed and shook her head. "You are out of your mind. I don't think you've thought this through, to be–"

"Come to New York too." Olivia was sat at the edge of the bed when she said this. Her voice was surprisingly calm.

"Oh my God, this is not happening." Santana paced furiously. "Tell me this is a fucking nightmare."

Her wife said nothing.

"I'm not going to New York and neither is Diane! If you want to move, fine." She stopped abruptly, rather close to Olivia. "But you are not taking my daughter with you."

"She's my daughter too!"

Santana laughed bitterly.

"So, you want to split her in half and take a part with you?"

Olivia stared straight into Santana's eyes. "She's coming with me, whether you like it or not."

"Well then, I'm going to call my lawyer." She started walking to the door, but she stopped and turned to her, "I really thought we could end this without any kind of trouble, but I guess that's impossible with you."

She walked out of the room and as she got to the kitchen, she felt her phone buzz on her leg. It was a message from Quinn telling her she had news she could only tell her in person.

Much like a night she would never get out of her head, she packed her things with Olivia watching her and then she headed to her daughters bedroom. She placed a kiss on the girl's temple and left for her car, although this time Olivia didn't follow her to try and seduce her.

The ride was fairly quick. At 9PM the traffic was bearable, and when she got to Quinn's, there was car she'd never seen on the driveway. She figured it must have been Matt's.

She knocked on the door. After some shuffling, a very tired looking Quinn appeared at the doorway.

"Hey, S."

Santana furrows her brow. "Quinn, is everything alright?"

Quinn says nothing and lets her in the house.

"Where's Ivy?"

"In her room." Quinn said as she led her to the kitchen. "Matt's upstairs too, in the guests room." She adds quietly.

"What the fuck is that douche still doing here?" Santana couldn't help her burst. Her voice rise startled Quinn. "I'm sorry—"

"I have the test results." Quinn cut her off.

Santana was sure she was paler than ever. She gulped and nodded slowly, motioning for Quinn to go on.

"She's fine, Santana." She managed to smile faintly. "She's not pregnant nor does she any kind of disease."

"Okay…" Santana told her simply. She didn't have the energy to jump up and down in joy, but she was doing it in her head. "Have you told her yet?"

Quinn shook her head. "I wanted to, but I honestly haven't had the time." She sighed and then she looked at Santana's hand, "Why are you holding a bag?"

"Oh." Santana looked at her hand and remained silent. "Olivia and I— we're getting a divorce."

Silence.

"She told me a few weeks ago that she fell in love with Di's kindergarten teacher. And since then we haven't been the same." Santana spoke slowly, her voice breaking, "And now she told me she wants to move to New York and take Di with her." She sobbed, "I can't let her take Diane away from me, Q. I can't."

And in fractions of a second there were tears rolling down her cheeks and she was being embraced by her dearest friend.

"Well, well." A male voice came from the doorway. "I never knew Santana Lopez could cry."

They broke apart. Santana sniffled and wiped her teary eyes with the back of her hands to see Matt Siza smirking. She clenched her jaw and refrained herself from doing anything nasty.

"Change of plans, Matt." Quinn started with an awfully sweet voice, "You can't stay."

"I figured you'd change your mind." He motioned to the bag on the floor.

"Oh." Quinn looked down. "Well, I'll show you the way out."

"It's alright. I know it by heart."

But the blonde insisted and soon they were reaching the door, leaving a calmer but still very trembling Santana in the kitchen.

"My lawyer will reach yours." She heard Matt say.

A pause.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I've been a complete ass these past months."

Santana could almost picture him looking down and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I'll call once in awhile to talk to Ivy— not that she'll want that." He laughed nervously.

Another pause.

Santana was sure Quinn was staring at the ground wondering when she'd wake up from this terrible nightmare.

"I'll go now." He kissed her cheek. "Take care."

"Goodbye, Matt."

The door was closed. Matt turned on the ignition of his car and drove away, leaving all behind him.

Quinn walked in the kitchen with a stupid smile on her face. But she quickly wiped it off and turned her expression to a more serious one, willing herself to listen to a broken Santana.

"I'm sorry, San." She ran her hand along Santana's back. "She will never get full custody."

Santana lets out a sob.

"What if she does?" It comes out muffled because she lying her head on her arm. "I don't know what I'll do."

"That won't happen."

"How can you be so sure of that? It's not like—"

"Santana." She starts, "I don't think either of you will get full custody, to be honest. This is a clean break-up. None of you cheated or did anything illegal, so you'll probably end up— sharing, Diane."

Santana paled at Quinn's speech. She cheated but there was no way Olivia'd know. She just couldn't. Now more than ever, she had to bury her secrets well buried.

"However, if Olivia moves to New York, Diane will most likely stay with you." She hesitates, "I mean, if your lawyer does a good job."

Santana sighed and after she groaned.

She went to bed right after this talk with Quinn. But she barely slept that night. She tossed and turned and thought of everything and nothing. She didn't even know if it had been a good day. On the bright side, Brittany had now a clean slate, meaning she had nothing pulling her down or attaching her to her dark past (except, of course, for the memories). On another hand, Santana was getting a divorce and her soon to be ex-wife would be moving to NY and wanted to take their daughter with her.

It was an eventful Sunday.

On Monday morning, she called Hodgins and told him about the situation. He was a sweet old man, and he understood her perfectly. He gave her a few days off.

Quinn had to go to work and Ivy to school. So she planned on paying a visit to Diane in kindergarten, and after she'd go to Brittany.

_Oh, Brittany._

Santana was sure her own limbs were only glued together because of her.

When she got to the kindergarten, she saw Olivia's car parked in front of it. She looked at the time and frowned. It was half an hour past Olivia's work.

Strange.

Cautiously, she walked in the building. The sound of kids running and yelling suddenly reminded her of her headache. She put her shades on her head and asked the lady if she could go in Diane's room. The woman, recognizing her from the last time, told her yes and led her in. That day, Diane and Summer were playing with some dolls, away from the rest of the class. And in the corner by the window, sat at a table drinking some hot beverage, was Olivia and Jessica, Santana's doppelganger.

Olivia, much like in a cheesy movie or lame reality, was laughing and touching the other woman's forearm. But Jessica was by no means grossed out or annoyed by the gesture, no, she actually seemed to be enjoying all the attention.

"Ladies," She greeted with a small smirk mixed with a frowned face once she got to their table.

Olivia paled.

Jessica smiled and jumped from her seat, greeting Santana with a warm hug and a beaming smile.

Her wife gulped and then asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the exact same thing." Santana retorted rather quickly.

"I have the day off."

"I have the day off as well."

"Right." Jessica lingered the word. "Well, ladies, if you'll excuse me—"

"Oh, no." Santana let out a fake laugh. "Please stay. I just came by to be with my daughter for a while."

Jessica's awkward expression softened to a sweet smile. "That's adorable."

Santana nodded at her, shot a cold glare in Olivia's direction and left to Diane.

"Hello, little ladies." Santana crouched with the two girls.

"Momma!" Diane threw herself into her arms. "Where was Momma this morning?"

"I was with Auntie Quinn."

Diane's eyes glistened. "And Ivy?"

"Ivy had school, honey."

"Oh." She nodded sadly. Then she perked up immediately, "And Brittany?"

Santana quickly looked back to check if Olivia hadn't heard anything.

"No, sweetie. Brittany's in Boise."

"Oh." She said again, pouting a little. "Can we go see her after school?"

Santana wondered if it'd do any harm in paying her a little visit. But maybe, just maybe, she should wait until all of this is over.

"Not today. But, how about ice cream this week? Summer here can join too if her mom—daddy lets her."

The girl's face lightened up like never before.

"For real, Momma?" Diane gasped.

Santana nodded and hummed. Then her daughter jumped up to hug her mother very tightly.

"Mrs. Hurley-Lopez?" Summer asked almost in a silent whisper. Her pale cheeks were an adorable shade of red. "Can I hug you?"

Santana cringed at the surname. She wanted to tell the girl that she was no longer Mrs. Hurley-Lopez, just Miss Lopez. But she couldn't say anything just yet, so she nodded. Summer didn't hesitate to hug both mother and daughter as tightly as Diane had. And as soon as that moment started, it ended.

Olivia stood by them, awkwardly, and she cleared her throat, breaking them apart. Santana shot her a glare.

"We should go now, Santana." She said.

"We?" She got up to face her wife. "I came here alone, Olivia."

"But—"

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you _here_." She hissed as she looked back only to see her daughter and Summer distracted by the toys. "I'll be staying at Quinn's for a few days."

Olivia dragged her out of the classroom.

"What? Are you out of your mind?" She asked indignantly. "We haven't even told Di!"

"I'll come by tonight then, for dinner." Santana turned to leave not planning to hear any more word from Olivia. Then suddenly, she remembered something. She turned around and despite the little voice telling her that her wife would get the wrong vibe off of the comment and think she was jealous of Jessica, she ignored it and said, "Oh, and Liv? Have fun with Jessica." And then she shot her a suspicious million-watt smile.

She left the building with a scowl that could be seen from Mars and to top it all some person decided to park their car right next to hers, so she couldn't move.

"You have got to be kidding me." She spoke to the Gods.

She put her shades back on her face and closed her eyes, took a deep breath and looked around to see if the owner was possibly around. They _had_ left the car with intermittent lights so she just hoped for their sake that they'd be quick in whatever they were doing. She sat in her car and honked a couple of times to catch their attention. Sure enough, a man in his forties came marching out from the coffee shop in front of the kindergarten. He looked like he was about to shoot someone.

And when he finally reached his car, he said, "Gee, lady, you couldn't five minutes, could ya?"

Santana quirked an eyebrow and replied, "Okay, I'm not even going to bother replying to that. Please just park your car somewhere else."

He was going to throw some snide remark at her, but she just rolled up the window and looked forward, tuning him out with the music coming from the radio.

As the man moved his car forward, Santana took it as an opportunity to send Brittany a quick text.

_Good morning. i'm not sure if Quinn told you yet, but the exam results arrived this weekend. i'm going there now, so i hope you're awake xxx_

She sent it. And then she reread it. She cursed herself for not putting a smiley face after the 'good morning' part. Now Brittany was going to think she was grumpy and that the news were bad.

With a sigh, she drove her way to Boise.

Surprisingly, the traffic wasn't too bad that morning, so she got there in a little less than an hour. Her stomach had gradually started fluttering from the minute she turned on her car knowing her destination to the moment she turned it off in front of the building.

She chose to take the stairs. She needed the exercise.

(Excuses, a part of her thinks, you're just nervous to see those pretty eyes again.)

Nervous or not, she'd just be unnecessarily avoiding the unavoidable. In what felt like seconds, she was on the 11th floor, apartment 1107, taking a deep breath and preparing herself to see the woman that changed her life.

She knocked twice and waited ten seconds before she heard shuffling on the locks and then Brittany was at the door, clad in a towel.

And Santana could only stare at the woman's body.

Brittany, much like those times that Santana went to the place she used to call home, stepped aside with a small smile gracing her lips.

Santana walked in her studio and waited for Brittany to close the door.

"You know, this is still your apartment, Santana." Brittany started, "I'm sure you still have a key, so please don't think that just because I'm here you need to—"

"No, Brittany." Santana cut her off, "This is your apartment for now, so I want you to think of it as your home and it wouldn't be right if I just barged in whenever I wanted to."

Which are a lot of times. If it were up to Santana, she'd just live here for as long as she was alive.

Brittany seemed to pause in her thoughts. Then she looked at Santana and said, "Okay."

"Okay."

An awkward silence settled upon them.

"You can sit on your couch, Santana." She said playfully.

"_Your _couch, Brittany." Santana replied as she sat down.

Brittany laughed it off and said she was going to put some clothes on. When she came back, she was fully dressed — much to Santana's dismay.

"Are you okay?" Santana asked her out of the blue.

Brittany once more paused, probably to check if it was a trick question, and squinted her eyes slightly.

"I am. Are you?"

"I have your exam results here."

Santana was holding an envelope in her left hand. She handed it to Brittany, but she just shook her head.

"It's opened already, which means you already know my fate." Her face was stoic so Santana wasn't sure if it was a bad thing or a neutral kind of good thing. "Am I pregnant?"

A tensed pause.

"No."

Brittany simply nodded a very faint nod.

"You're not pregnant, Britt. And you are clean." She added after a beat.

Her nods grew frantic until she sat on the couch and started breathing heavily. For moments, Santana thought the woman was hyperventilating or having a panic attack, but then she realized Brittany was laughing.

So, unsure of the cause behind it, she laughed as well — although not nearly as gracefully as Brittany.

"I'm not pregnant." She repeated, "I'm not pregnant."

"You're not pregnant."

Then Brittany nodded, "Okay." She said.

"Alright."

"Okay." She repeated.

And Santana was lost.

And then she felt Brittany's lips on hers.

And Santana didn't know if she was even more lost or completely found.

"I'm not pregnant." Brittany mumbled against her lips. "I'm not—"

She let out a sob.

Santana was definitely lost. She didn't know what was happening. She couldn't get a grasp on the situation.

Brittany's sobs were a crescendo until she was full on crying.

"Brittany, Brittany, baby." She cooed, "You're okay—"

"I'm—" She choked on a sob, "I'm not okay!" She yelled as she got up, startling a confused Santana.

"Yes you—"

"No, I'm not!" She kept yelling. There was a silence, and then she spoke again, "Don't say I'm okay."

"But you are."

Brittany looked at her through teary eyes.

"The life you had before is past." Santana got up and walked to her, "You are going to find a job— something you like to do and you will do it." She put both hands on each of the woman's shoulders and continued, "You are the purest woman I know, Brittany."

Brittany didn't look at her.

"Look at me." Santana ordered softly, and when she did, she finished, "Please believe me."

The other woman said nothing.

"Please," She kept pleading.

Brittany, once more, didn't open her mouth.

Santana closed the small gap between them by pressing her lips onto soft ones. She didn't move them. She simply held them there. But Brittany had other ideas. She threw Santana on the couch and straddled her. And Santana's quiet moment was out of the window then, because the blonde didn't waste any time kissing her neck, biting her ear lobe, and leaving a trail of open-mouthed kissed until they reached the brunette's cleavage.

"What are—" Santana's speech was cut when Brittany cupped her breasts. "—Doing?"

Like before, she didn't say anything. Instead, she grinded her hips against Santana's pelvis.

"Oh— my God." She moaned. "Brittany, what are you doing?"

A hand sneaked under Santana's pants and boxers, gripping the appendage that lay under.

"Holy—" She jumped up, knocking Brittany to the side. "Brittany, what the—"

Brittany was breathing heavily. Her eyes were dark and sad, and then Santana swore she saw them red.

"Out." She said.

Santana tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

"I said, out!" Brittany yelled once more. But Santana wasn't moving, probably too stunned from her words and past actions. "No, wait, don't go. I will. This is your apartment, after all."

She stalked to the bag she had by the bed, threw it on top of it, opened the drawers and as she took her clothes, Santana grabbed her wrists.

"What are you doing?" She asked frantically.

"Let go!" She tried wrestling free, but Santana wasn't having it. "Let me go!"

"No! Why did you do that?" Santana managed to push her against a wall.

"You're just like them!" She yelled in her face. "If I'm the purest woman you know, why couldn't you let me touch you? Huh?" She felt her wrists loosening up, "Screw you, Santana."

She kept throwing clothes to the bag.

Santana sat on the bed and whispered, "I just didn't want my first time with you to be like that."

Brittany zipped the bag and stormed to the living room, ignoring her completely.

The other woman followed and in vain attempts, with rivers of tears, she kept on whispering a mantra.

"Please don't leave me."

Brittany stopped at the door, her head hung low and back turned to Santana.

"Please don't go."

The blonde reached the door handle. She twisted it and stepped out of the apartment in slow motion, never once turning back.

She left the door open.

Santana sobbed and sobbed and thought that karma was finally getting to her. She didn't connect it at first, but this seemed awfully like the night she left Olivia for the first time — she refused sex and left abruptly and now someone did the same to her. It was also the night she met Brittany. And now Brittany did the same to her.

She guessed it was punishment for her hypocrisy.

"I just wanted to do everything right, this time." She whispered into the air, wishing for a kind soul to hear her.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Someone ran down the hallway, but Santana didn't hear them. The thumps were getting louder and louder and moments later they stopped and the door closed with a thud so loud it could compete against thunder.

She never looked up, but she felt hands gripping the sides of her face and then lips on her own, soft, heavenly-like lips. She let her kiss her lips and she could feel the salty taste of the tears they both had shed.

And then Brittany pulled away and rested her forehead against Santana's.

"I'm sorry. I'll never leave you again. I believe you, I believe you, I believe you."

"Okay." Santana whispered back, "Okay."

They didn't move. There, in the middle of the room, they rested against each other, not saying anything, just enjoying each other's presence.

"Come," Brittany took Santana's hand and led her to the couch, "Sit."

Santana sat with her, by her.

They snuggled to each other's bodies and intertwined hands. And after a while, Santana broke the silence.

"I'm getting a divorce."

Brittany held her tightly, "Okay."

Santana nodded, "I'm most worried about Diane," She continued, "I hate this. I wish I could still keep Diane but never have married Olivia."

"It's gonna be okay, Santana." She kissed the top of the other's head, "I believe you."


End file.
